Nine months flew by as if they were a single day. Richie felt as though he had fallen into a kind of Groundhog Week. Not a day—because every week was the same, with only the tasks that needed solving changing.
Schoolwork came first: initially following the final year of the Key Stage 3 curriculum, then mastering the knowledge required for both years of Key Stage 4.
In her work as a tutor, Madam Marchbanks did not deviate from her teaching methods. The elderly witch continued to give Richard new spells that she considered useful—but only after the young wizard had perfectly mastered the previous ones. During their training sessions she did not remain silent, either. She told fascinating stories, enlightened Richie about the realities of the wizarding world, spoke of great wizards and significant historical events, and devoted particular attention to the many things she herself had witnessed during her long life.
Richard could not be called a genius in the magical arts. He was more like a talented and diligent craftsman, capable of silently casting a dozen and a half spells, the most complicated of which was duplicating an object. But compared to his peers, in the opinion of the elderly witch, young Grosvenor was very talented indeed. It was understandable—very few children could practice magic until they were exhausted without getting distracted or throwing tantrums. Richie's arsenal of wandless spells remained the same: a small set consisting of levitation, summoning objects, and destruction. In short, all the techniques he had invented himself back when he believed he was a mutant.
The wizards' workshop under the leadership of Arthur Weasley continued to function smoothly, producing artifacts with astonishing capabilities. Most of them were then shipped to British intelligence services for enormous sums of money. On paper, this was listed as "technical modifications"—something akin to a tuning workshop for airplanes and automobiles.
If not for the funds coming from MI6, Richard would have had to sell part of his stock portfolio to pay the taxes on the profits from Skrepyshes for 1990. As it was, everything was settled with relatively little difficulty, and the remaining funds even allowed him to increase his holdings of securities and make additional investments.
By May, thirty young wizards were already working in Richard Grosvenor's magical office. The selection criteria had been strict: creativity, strong proficiency in charms, and minimal racism toward ordinary people. Most of them were Muggle-borns or half-blood wizards who lived among ordinary people.
The first thing the wizards did was create ways to travel quickly between work and home. First, a Floo fireplace was connected in the office. Second, each employee had a portal charm placed on their ID pass. Richard himself acquired several such portals. Now he could easily move between the magical office, his London house, and Eaton Hall estate—or travel to any of those places from anywhere in the world.
After passing all his exams, Richard felt an indescribable sense of joy. At last, he had finished school! Euphoria overwhelmed the young Grosvenor. He wanted to do something outrageous, to misbehave a little, to change his surroundings and breathe the air of freedom with a full chest!
At the moment, Richard was not at all worried that this freedom was rather illusory—after all, in just three months he would be leaving for Hogwarts, where he would have to study for at least five more years, and ideally all seven.
Richie decided to forget about everything and have a proper rest while he still had the chance.
Upon returning home, the boy found his father and immediately addressed him.
"Dad, remember how we agreed that when I finished school you would consider me an adult and give me a certain degree of freedom?"
"The conversation was a little different, but let's assume that's what we said. Do you want something, Richie?"
"I want to go traveling. I want to see the world."
"And what's stopping you? If I recall correctly, you were traveling around the world freely even a year ago."
"I want to do it in my own plane. For that I'll need Steve as a pilot and a bodyguard."
"And John as an escort," Mr. Grosvenor added.
"Well… there's a complication," Richard hesitated. "Dad, my plane was enchanted by wizards. It can fly at five thousand miles per hour, it's extremely safe, and it can become invisible—both to the naked eye and to military radar. But that's not all. It can also instantly move to any location it has already visited. For example, I could fly to Australia in a couple of hours and then instantly return to Britain."
"That is a problem. And the plane is really safe?" Gerald asked with concern. "You're my only son. I wouldn't want to lose you."
"It's safer than any airliner. Dad, not only is my plane enchanted to the extreme, it's also equipped with a rescue system—a parachute. I can travel around the world quickly and unnoticed. But not with John. After all, he doesn't know about magic."
"If memory serves, your plane has four seats, doesn't it?"
"Yes."
"Then take Scott Potter with you as well. Scott and Steve together will be able to protect you. And since Scott can't leave his nephew alone, take your friend Harry along too."
"That's a great idea! At least I won't be bored."
"Richie, what about your lessons with your magic tutor?"
"Pff! Dad, that's only a couple of days a week. I can put the plane in my pocket and, by Portkey, appear before Madam Marchbanks from anywhere in the world. After that I can return home—or continue my journey from the same place."
"I still can't get used to the possibilities that magic provides," Gerald said, shaking his head.
"Magic can do anything! At least that's what my mentor says. And you know, Dad, after learning what wizards can do with matter and space—things that are only possible theoretically and mathematically—I'm starting to believe it."
"And what about your business?!"
"Trivial!" Richard waved it off. "If it weren't for Hogwarts, I would've focused on investments full-time. But since I'll be studying there, I've arranged everything so that for the next seven or eight years I won't even have to think about work. I believe I invested my capital very successfully."
"Successfully?" Gerald asked sarcastically. "Because I was told that some shady people came to see you, and you handed them money. Mmm… something around twenty million pounds."
(End of Chapter)
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