The drawing room of Eaton Hall was unchanged: the fireplace, the armchairs, the small table, and steaming hot tea in fine porcelain cups.
Richie sat in a comfortable armchair as though perched on a bed of nails. The prickly stare of his father, radiating profound displeasure, made it impossible to relax.
"Dad, you're looking much better. You almost look younger," Richard finally ventured, breaking the silence.
"Your pyjamas work miracles," Gerald replied gloomily. "Now then, son, what sort of dealings do you have with the intelligence services? Why am I being handed some so-called 'special cargo' that turns out to be your school bag?"
"Dad, it's difficult to explain..."
"Then try."
"If I tell the truth, you won't believe me," the boy sighed heavily.
"Nevertheless, I want to hear everything," the Duke insisted.
"I had a... erm... revelation..."
"A revelation?" Gerald raised an eyebrow. "Again..." He sighed. "What is it this time?"
"Our planet..." Richard forced the words out. "It may be destroyed within the next six years. The culprit will be one of Britain's powerful wizards. I don't know who. Every powerful wizard is under suspicion, and Dumbledore is first on the list."
Gerald's entire expression screamed disbelief and unrestrained scepticism.
"The entire planet?" he smirked. "Destroyed?"
"I told you that you wouldn't believe me," Richard sighed sadly.
"And what exactly can you do about it?" Gerald asked. "Richie, you're just a little boy."
"I'm a rich and influential little boy with superhuman abilities," Richard replied.
"Don't change the subject," Grosvenor Senior said. "Richie, what did you do? What are you planning?"
"Dad, with the help of wizards, I've started developing an entire range of magical devices unlike anything ordinary people have. A quantum transmitter capable of sending information virtually instantaneously across any distance; artificial intelligence; ultra-durable composite materials; a safe and nearly limitless cold-fusion power generator; and an intergalactic spacecraft capable of covering a light-year in an hour through a series of jumps, or travelling almost instantaneously via a teleportation beacon."
"Impressive," Gerald said, "but it sounds far too fantastical."
"I agree, it's difficult to believe, but I already have prototypes of many of those things, and more advanced versions will appear soon. I intend to build powerful cold-fusion power stations throughout Britain and, eventually, across the entire world. They'll operate using enchanted fire."
"So, son, you actually managed to push that law through among the wizards?" Gerald asked.
"Yes." A delighted smile spread across Richard's face. "Yes, Dad! The Statute of Secrecy has finally developed a crack. I can now bring any absurdly fantastical product to market and simply claim it's an example of classified technology."
"And now we return to the subject of what you did and how the intelligence services became involved," Gerald said. His gaze, sharp as a knife, bored into his son.
Richard's smile vanished instantly. The boy swallowed nervously.
"Er... You see, Dad... I understood perfectly well that nobody would believe the planet was facing destruction. Nobody! Especially not when such a claim was based on the premonition of some little boy."
"Aaand?" Grosvenor Senior's right eyebrow arched in an impressive fashion.
"I told you about the strange things happening at Hogwarts..." Richard continued reluctantly. "Well, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and I learned that the Philosopher's Stone was being kept in the school. And, as far as I can tell, practically anyone with even a shred of curiosity could have found out about it."
"Hm..." the Duke drawled sceptically. "Let's clarify something. Do you genuinely believe someone hid a Philosopher's Stone in a school? A stone capable of turning lead into gold?"
"Personally, I think it allows a wizard to bypass the limitations imposed on Earth by the ritual and duplicate gold," Richard offered his opinion. "But I find its ability to create the Elixir of Life far more interesting. Well, at least the creator of the Stone has lived for more than six hundred years and is now approaching seven hundred."
The Duke's expression hardened until it seemed he might start shooting lightning from his eyes. In an icy voice, he said:
"Richie, don't tell me you went after the Philosopher's Stone."
"All right. I won't mention it."
"You disobeyed me."
Gerald's voice was so cold it seemed capable of freezing the air throughout the entire house.
"Dad, I was trying to save the world," Richard said timidly, attempting to justify himself. "I had to prevent a potential destroyer of the planet from restoring his health and gaining a long life."
"Richie, you are going to tell me everything right now, and then you'll receive the punishment you deserve!" the Duke declared. There was such authority in his voice that defying him seemed impossible.
Richard suddenly found his throat dry. In a hoarse voice, he began recounting everything that had happened at the school. Gerald barely restrained himself from thrashing his son on the spot and starting a war with the wizarding world.
"All right, I see now." After listening to the entire story, the Duke slapped both hands against the armrests of his chair. "The Headmaster of Hogwarts is insane. Through blatant manipulation, he orchestrated some kind of feud with a rival right inside the school. He turned Hogwarts into a dangerous place, but nobody cares because the headmaster of a wizarding school apparently wields almost as much authority as the Minister for Magic himself. But you, Richie... You're a clever boy. A genius. How could you get involved in this madness, especially after I expressly forbade it?"
"Dad, nobody would believe an apocalypse is coming," Richard said sadly. "Not even you. You know my predictions often come true, yet you still don't believe me. I have to do something—anything—to save at least part of humanity, or, if possible, prevent the catastrophe altogether. After all, neither power nor money will help anyone survive an apocalypse."
"Those excuses won't save you," the Duke replied, shaking his head reproachfully. "You're definitely getting the belt. But well done for at least having the sense to arrange an alibi."
"Dad, apart from you and me, nobody knows that I have the Philosopher's Stone," Richard said. "Don't tell anyone. Otherwise, neither of us will live very long."
"That much I understand." Gerald frowned thoughtfully. "What did you promise the intelligence services in exchange for their help? Do they know why you needed to pull off this operation?"
(End of Chapter)
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