Standing before the large fireplace in the Diggory family living room, I felt extremely uncomfortable. I didn't pay much attention to the style of the rooms, the decoration, the furnishings—it was normal, but that wasn't the problem. It's just...
"So," Cedric spoke, standing nearby. "You don't want to connect the fireplace in your house to the Floo Network?"
"That's not the best solution," I flicked a non-existent speck of dust off the sleeve of my dark blue robe, under which was an even darker suit. "It's a serious breach in the security of an ordinary people's house."
"Sounds strange, but it's true."
Cedric himself was dressed in a business suit of two colors—dark brown and black, and a black robe. Through the curtained windows, orange rays of the setting sun fell into the living room.
Yes, precisely because the fireplace in my parents' house is not connected to the network, and generally its size does not imply the possibility of a person entering it, I turned to Cedric, and precisely because of this I felt uncomfortable. But this option is better than going to some public place with fireplaces and waiting for the right time to go to the Malfoys.
"It will be hard for you," Cedric chuckled, adjusting the collar of his robe. "A lot is tied to the Floo Network here."
"And Apparition?"
"Purely from a practical point of view—it, of course, yes," Cedric nodded. "But from the point of view of propriety, it is better to use the fireplace or, if a Portkey was sent to you—use it."
"And what is this connected with?" taking out my wand, I cast Tempus—a couple more minutes until the time appointed specifically for me.
"I assume because you can Apparate to the house at any time of the day and you are not always expected there. And owners open the fireplace when expecting guests."
"That is, it can be closed?"
"Of course, but it's still better that a wizard or a house-elf lives in the house on a permanent basis. Blocking the fireplace is a temporary measure, and it needs to be updated at least once a week. There are several more types of blocking, for example, some seal or pass-charms on a letter so that only its holder could pass through the fireplace."
"But either way there are many security gaps."
"Many," Cedric nodded. "Come on, your time. Mine is only in seven minutes."
Questions about why it is necessary to move at a strictly defined time did not arise for me, because the answer is obvious—if there are many guests, and everyone comes through the fireplace, then it is desirable to organize the process to avoid incidents and collisions at the exit.
Taking some Floo Powder from the stand, threw a pinch into the flame, and it immediately turned green. Entering inside, turned around and said clearly and distinctly:
"Malfoy Manor," and immediately threw the remaining part of the powder.
The flight was fast. The green swirl around spun me in a crazy carousel of sensations, in a stream of energy, and here I am already taking a step forward from the fireplace in Malfoy Manor. Step aside. In a medium-sized hall with high ceilings and walls of gloomy massive stone—or maybe it's just such a finish—Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy met the arrivals, and they looked, as always, more than worthy. But, of course, it was decidedly impossible not to pay tribute to the level of "chic" of Mrs. Malfoy.
"Mr. Granger," Mr. Malfoy greeted me with a slight polite smile, and even held out his hand, which I immediately shook.
"Mr. Malfoy..."
Since such a gesture is appropriate, then one should not be surprised at Mrs. Malfoy's hand extended to me—not surprised, I kissed the air above it.
"Lady Malfoy."
"I am glad," Lucius held the floor, "that you found it possible to attend this modest evening."
"I cherish a sincere hope that I have no need to weave verbal lace throughout the evening, because there is a vague probability that individual personalities will perceive this only as an attempt to look like a 'worthy' wizard."
Lucius smirked.
"Means we need the right first impression," he turned his head slightly towards his wife, "Narcissa, organize Mr. Granger's acquaintance with significant personalities first of all."
"Of course," she smiled. "Please, follow me."
We went to the exit from this small hall, but did not have time to approach the doors when Draco appeared there in a black suit, somewhat reminiscent simultaneously of a tailcoat, and a robe, and generally everything at once. Not a bad design solution, of course, and looks great, but somehow unusual. Including a white shirt with a bow tie.
Couldn't hold, couldn't hold face the guy as soon as he saw me—it twitched in a grimace of displeasure, although quickly became neutrally polite.
"Malfoy."
"Granger."
"Excellent suit."
"Yours is not bad either. Don't recognize the fabric."
"Absolutely unique, there is no second one."
"Made it yourself, or what?" Draco chuckled, but the look was evaluating, because the fabric I got was really chic. "Something familiar."
"Of course," I stretched out my hand a little and with a volitional message made the sleeve like the suit was at the Yule Ball. "Absolutely unique development, sure—the future in the field of clothing."
"There is something in this," Draco nodded puzzled and surprised. "Forced to bow out."
He went to his father to meet guests who, as I understood, should appear any minute, and Lady Malfoy and I entered the adjacent hall. It was much, much larger than the previous one. This hall was a little brighter, but still remained severe and in something even concise with this gloomy stone finish, high ceilings with various bas-reliefs and other decorations. Along the walls stood large tables, a rich buffet, everything beautiful and in the best possible way. There were tables for several people here, there were nooks with sofas and coffee tables. Quite a large part of the hall, the central one, was empty of furniture, and intricate geometric patterns on the mirror-polished stone floor could be easily examined. Here and there were wizards of different ages and in different outfits, among which one could see something purely national. If look closely, could distinguish wizards from France, Italy or Germany—their business suits and robes differed, although an ignorant person will not notice a significant difference.
"Honestly," I spoke, walking next to Lady Malfoy, attracting the glances of wizards, but no one turned their head—would not have earned a squint, "I assumed that Draco would meet me specifically, as a peer."
"You, Mr. Granger, are a guest of Lucius and, consequently, mine, and Draco, as you said, is only a peer. He meets his guests, or those whom Lucius instructs to escort."
"Turns out, I absolutely cannot lose face."
"It seems to me, Mr. Granger, you are simply incapable of failing socially."
"Thank you for such a flattering assessment."
Out of the corner of my eye I noted peers, as well as guys older or slightly younger—they, for now, stood with their parents, and if these very parents turned out to be close to each other, began to communicate. Ernie was here too, it seems, with his parents. Not surprising—they are quite rich and they have a business relevant at all times—alcohol. Well and, of course, they are one of the "Sacred Twenty-Eight". Like the Abbotts, who stand in the company of wizards from Germany, if I understood the style of clothing correctly.
We purposefully moved to one of the buffets, near which a group of wizards stood. Middle-aged, clearly respectable. Something French was traced in the clothes and manners of some of them, and it was in this company that Mr. Delacour, known to me, was located.
"Try to join the conversation," Mrs. Malfoy gave parting words. "If the others see you fully communicating with these wizards, your first impression will be more than successful. Albeit not for everyone."
"Thank you," I nodded almost imperceptibly to Lady Malfoy, hoping that this would not escape her attention. Did not escape.
We approached this group of wizards, and they naturally paid attention to us.
"Allow me to introduce to you, gentlemen, Hector Granger... Amazingly talented young man," Mrs. Malfoy recommended me, and I noted that some of these wizards were much happier to communicate with her than the fact of acquaintance. Well, this is not surprising.
"Monsieur Granger," Mr. Delacour immediately smiled, holding out his hand. "Glad to see you again, indeed."
"It seems, Monsieur Delacour," Lady Malfoy smiled at him purely politely, "you will be able to introduce Mr. Granger to the rest."
"Most certainly," he nodded back.
"In that case, I am forced to leave you."
Mrs. Malfoy went back to that small hall with a fireplace, passing Draco in the doorway—he was walking here with Nott and an unfamiliar middle-aged wizard.
"Monsieur Granger!" Delacour did not intend to hide joy at all, under the curious glances of wizards standing nearby, and immediately turned to them. "Allow me to introduce to all of you this truly gifted wizard, even if only transferred to the fifth year of Hogwarts."
"Curious," chuckled a moustached man of rather dry constitution. "François Laberge, head of the French trade guild. In my memory, not often so cordially spoke of young wizards, except, perhaps, their own children."
"Very nice to meet you, monsieur," I answered with a slight bow and a polite smile on my face.
"And you are not talkative," chuckled the second, slightly plump, clean-shaven and with short black hair combed back. "Emmanuel Raynaud, plenipotentiary representative of the French Minister for Magic on the lands of England."
Another nod from my side.
"And you, I assume," I turned to the taciturn and sullen wizard of unremarkable appearance, known to me from newspaper articles and clippings, "George McGowan?"
"You are right, young man," he nodded briefly.
"Heard about your achievements in the development of magical animal husbandry and knitwear."
"Glad to hear that the younger generation is interested in such things. But at the same time I am surprised that I cannot recognize the fabric of your, without exaggeration, wonderful suit."
"Oh, nothing special, really," I smiled. "Just a personal development."
"Really?" McGowan's face remained stern, but curiosity in his gaze and voice was obvious. "And what unique properties, if not a secret, does this fabric possess."
"The range of properties is quite wide, sir, but to use some of them it is necessary to possess certain skills in sorcery. For example..."
I performed the same trick as during the meeting with Draco at this evening.
"Hmm," McGowan looked closely at the transformation of part of my suit. "Looks like transfiguration."
"Indeed," nodded the others, showing polite interest in the conversation and what was happening.
"However, the fabric remains magical," I smiled, returning it to its original appearance. "And this is its property. Among other things, a suit made of this fabric carries some protective properties, and is capable of blocking simple jinxes, curses and even stray spells. Within reasonable limits, of course."
"These are very amusing properties, and can be useful to many."
"Yes-yes," nodded Laberge, "especially for wizards in administrative positions. You have no idea what a terrible serpentarium various government agencies like the Ministry represent. Every month a decent amount goes only to medicine to remove particularly cunning jinxes and curses from envious people and other incapable hangers-on."
"Maybe give me a chance to introduce myself too?" chuckled a solid tall wizard, gray as a harrier.
"Oh, excusez-moi, monsieur," smiled the French.
"MacPherson. Campbell MacPherson. Investor and co-owner of most trademarks and shops in Scotland and partly England."
"By the way, gentlemen," Delacour rubbed his hands joyfully. "We are now discussing a rather important issue for us about mutual integration of finances and activities on the territories of our countries. But we miss an extremely important thing, following our vision..."
Everyone looked at Delacour attentively.
"Analysis of demand."
"Indeed," nodded MacPherson. "This is my fault, gentlemen. Still, I got too carried away with various ideas against the background of opened prospects for international cooperation and completely forgot that the fact of demand is important, and based on it, ideas about supply should be created."
"So let's ask a representative of the younger generation," Delacour chuckled. "What interests them when it comes to purchases, goods?"
"I'm afraid, gentlemen," I smiled, "it is beyond my competence to discuss such things."
"Really?"
"Unfortunately for representatives of trade associations," I continued my thought, "I myself am a fairly self-sufficient wizard, and solve arising needs independently. Not from a good life, of course. Like, for example, creating fabric for this suit, as well as the suit itself."
"And how did you come to such a need?"
"Oh, nothing unusual. Just the Yule Ball during the Tournament."
"Heard, heard," nodded MacPherson, and the others smiled. "By the way, and there is the winner."
All glances of our company naturally turned towards the entrance to the hall, through which Mr. Malfoy just passed, accompanying Mr. Diggory in our direction. Amusing.
Two minutes went to introduce everyone to each other, and, naturally, questions began addressed to Cedric about whether participation in such a significant competition was difficult for him. On the sly, several more wizards joined our company and, at the moment, the largest group of people was near our table.
"...some moments were really difficult," Cedric smiled as frankly as possible, was a little shy, but I saw small nuances of his movements and facial expressions, and for me, accustomed to communicating with this guy, it was no secret that he was acting.
"But you coped perfectly," nodded MacPherson and the others, even Delacour, but about Fleur's father everything is clear—victory in the Tournament was not their main goal.
"That is so, but all thanks to Hector," Cedric nodded to me, and everyone looked at me with curiosity.
"You don't know," continued Cedric, "but it was Hector who compiled effective strategies for passing the first and second stages, while there were as many as several backup plans just in case."
"Really?" Monsieur Laberge moved his mustache amusingly, while asking a question on behalf of everyone else.
"It's true, but I'm sure Mr. Diggory had a couple of aces up his sleeve."
"I heard," spoke Delacour, "that Monsieur Granger bypassed the protection of the Goblet and found a way to participate in the selection."
"I certainly believe," nodded Laberge, "that Monsieur Granger is an outstanding wizard for his years, but hardly would he have become the most worthy champion purely due to the age difference."
"Believe me, Monsieur Laberge," Cedric smiled. "If Hector decided to participate in the Tournament, he would definitely have become the champion instead of me or any other Hogwarts student."
"And for the third task no idea was found?" it seems Mr. McGowan, expert on animals, ingredients and fabrics, decided to tease us a little.
"There was," I nodded, "but for equally fast and effective victory in the third task I saw one way, the implementation of which.... Unlikely anyone from students would have pulled it, even Cedric or I. And if detecting the direction to the Cup hidden in the maze was not a problem, although it was difficult, then the second part of the plan..."
A small dramatic pause to warm up interest, but not overdo it.
"...There is an amusing spell," I continued the thought. "Mining, Cone of Assenheimer..."
Wizards nodded understandingly, and MacPherson shook his head with a smirk.
"Yes, gentlemen, a complex spell for a trio of wizards. Could, of course, simply launch Fiendfyre through the maze along the azimuth to the Cup, but I don't think that even an attempt to practice such Dark Magic would have been left unpunished."
"True..."
"Nevertheless," Laberge moved his mustache amusingly again, and it was obvious that many suppressed chuckles about this. "We slightly strayed from the topic. Demand, gentlemen."
"Can say one thing," I nodded. "There is at least one direction of magical production and business absolutely undeveloped both here in England and in Europe, if I understood correctly."
"Enlighten us, Mr. Granger," MacPherson looked at me with a slight smirk.
"Artifacts. Yes-yes, I know that Asia took precedence in this market long ago and reliably. But the niche of mass consumption is completely empty."
"Just artifact production itself is by no means a cheap enterprise, hence the prices," Delacour shrugged. "This is well-known information. That's why only Asians and goblins make artifacts, having access to an abundance of various deposits of various materials."
"And what if I have an alternative?" with a smile I looked around those present.
"And you don't waste time on trifles, do you?" Cedric smirked.
"Seize the moment, as they say."
"Technology?" MacPherson became interested, and the head of the French trade guild expressed interest. "And yet I heard about a most amusing artifact with which the expedition to the north left."
"Possibly. Think I will find something to offer respected wizards."
"Monsieur Granger," the right to speak went to Delacour, as already familiar with me. And the number of interested wizards around grew and grew, and the buffet emptied faster and faster. "All this, of course, sounds wonderful, but raises some doubts."
"Hmm... Okay," I took off one cufflink and showed it to the others. "Evaluate."
Without being shy about anything at all, Laberge, head of the trade guild, took the cufflink and took out a wand, starting to drive around it.
"Quite simple in functions," he said, not stopping casting over the cufflink, "but extremely stable and... generally not requiring magic thing. Yes. Simple. I would value a set of such cufflinks at four dozen Galleons. Both beautiful, and simple, and this shine of blue topaz..."
Laberge returned the cufflink to me and, while I was putting it back on, asked:
"Cost price?"
"Zero."
"Zero?"
"Zero."
"Unthinkable. Materials alone..."
"Permanent transfiguration," I waved it off.
"But these are precious metals and stones..."
"I comprehended transfiguration in all its fullness," I smiled, and Cedric politely patted me on the shoulder, looking at the others.
"This is," the former prefect spoke, "what I told you about."
"What I am leading to, gentlemen," I looked at everyone again with a polite smile. "Let's launch a trial batch of some amusing, simple and useful artifact. Useful specifically for the middle strata of the population. Let's see what the demand will be, settle these issues."
"Think we will be more interested in technology," MacPherson chuckled, but it is not surprising, with his sphere of activity—investments and co-founding of retail outlets.
"Ordinary people have such a concept as conveyor and automation of production."
"We have some idea of this concept difficult to implement in the realities of the magical world," Delacour nodded. "Production among wizards rests on wizards themselves. Essentially, we are artisans, whether we want it or not."
"Let's, for a start, just conduct an experiment. From you analytics and order, and from me—product. Let's see how it will be realized, and leave production problems to me. Considering the cost price of the product, it will be possible to dump on the market so that Asians wash themselves with bloody tears from anger and powerlessness. Of course, all nuances under the contract."
"Ha-ha-ha," someone laughed, someone just smiled, but everyone was impressed by such an approach.
"We will definitely think over all nuances," nodded Laberge, and the others agreed.
From this moment the evening became more and more relaxed. Our company, despite the large spread in the age of its participants, successfully cruised from table to table, eating everything in a row and drinking whatever came to hand, while the number of participants increased, then decreased, but at any moment in time we were the most numerous group of wizards of different ages.
In one of the raids on another buffet, when we took a couple of local small businessmen into circulation, actively spinning them for cooperation or just conversation, Mrs. Malfoy approached us, or rather me.
"Gentlemen..."
"Yes, kind hostess?" tipsy Laberge fluffed his tail, immediately receiving an extremely sensitive poke with an elbow in the side from his comrade, Raynaud, representative of the French Ministry of Magic.
"I'm afraid I am forced to steal Mr. Granger from you."
I was quickly "evacuated" from this society, and only now did I notice how much attention we attract, including from young people. By the way, the evening, in fact, is in full swing, and it will be necessary to communicate with guys familiar to me, and possibly with their parents.
"I remember," Lady Malfoy began the conversation, "I promised to introduce you to worthy wizards, who are Wizards with a capital letter."
"And that would be really very cool, and I would be grateful to you for such a thing."
"Well, follow me, just don't be surprised."
"Will there be a reason?"
We moved away from the hall and, leaving it, approached the very first doors in the long corridor. I was on alert and internally preparing to repel any kind of aggression.
"I want to introduce you so that you can have the opportunity to correspond on questions arising for you."
Lady Malfoy opened the door, and we entered a pleasant bright living room in light colors. Looking around those present, I thought about only one thing: "What kind of women's club is this?!".
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