Aristocrat (HP/SI)

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For a while Hermione walked in silence with a pensive look. Unable to stand it, she asked:

- Richie, why didn't you introduce me?

Richard shook his head unhappily and replied:

- Introduce you to a pureblood wizard from a family of ultra-right-wing racist muggle-haters who felt free and permissive? Who has "major bully" written all over his face? You don't need that kind of familiarity, Hermione.

- Why not? - Granger furrowed her eyebrows.

- Hermione, believe me, and then you'll realise, it's better to stay away from such guys. Nothing good will come from such acquaintances.

- And you're a good guy?! - Hermione asked offended.

- The word 'honour' was not an empty word to the Grosvenors. Whether I'm good or bad is for you to judge.

Richard and Hermione walked to the steam train and asked the drivers. The girl was interested in how far to go to Hogwarts, and Richie asked how the magical steam engine worked. And the knowledge gained made him very thoughtful.

As the boy and girl travelled on the return journey, Hermione asked:

- Richie, what are you thinking about?

- Hermione, you heard the typists, didn't you?

- Yes," Granger nodded.- The ever-burning enchanted fire in the furnace, which is frozen by stasis charms... Doesn't anything confuse you?

- It's magic, Richie! - replied the girl in a stern tone.

- Magic..." Richard said meaningfully.

- Is it strange? - Hermione asked.

- Strange? - Grosvenor stretched out. - No... It's insane! An infinite source of energy and manipulation of time to make an ancient steam engine move! Perpetual motion, Hermione! The bloody perpetual motion machine!

- Erm...

That's when Hermione got to thinking. She froze with her mouth ajar and flapped her thick eyelashes.

- Perpetual motion? - she asked.

- PERPETUAL MOTION!!! - exclaimed Richie.

- 'Oh! Really...' Hermione stretched out.

- To think - to stop time in order to silence a perpetual motion machine... - Richie was greatly amazed and excited. - And wizards think it's something ordinary. Hermione, we should definitely find out the spells that can be used to achieve such an effect!

- Of course," the girl agreed and became enthusiastic. - I hope there are books about it in the Hogwarts library.

- The laws of thermodynamics and conservation of energy..." Richard muttered under his breath. - No, they haven't! Maxwell's autonomous artificial demon in action.....

- A demon?! - Hermione was horrified. - Is that black magic?

- Grey-brown-goat magic! - replied Richard sarcastically, looking at the girl ironically. - Didn't you learn maths and physics? Although, what am I talking about... Of course, how would a junior high school girl know higher maths?

Hermione pouted resentfully and said reproachfully:

- If you're so clever, you'd better explain. Not everyone here is a genius, you know!

- Maxwell's Demon, Hermione, aka Maxwell's paradox, is a mathematical paradox. An imaginary microscopic intelligent being invented by British physicist James Clerk Maxwell to illustrate the apparent paradox of the Second Principle of Thermodynamics.

Hermione didn't understand anything, but, not to appear stupid, pretended that the words of her new acquaintance explained everything. She made a note to herself that she needed to learn physics and maths, and not limit herself to the "It's magic" explanation. It turns out that ordinary people have long since come up with descriptions for magical phenomena, they just can't replicate the effects of spells... Not yet.

As Richard and Hermione walked through the third carriage, the Weasley twins were discovered in one of the compartments. One of them, Fred I think, exclaimed:

- Lord, wait. Father asked me to pass on a new development. I'm sorry, we forgot. George, where are they?

- I'll get them," George replied, then pulled a large suitcase out from under the seat and pulled out a cloth bundle.

Richard unfolded the cloth on the table between the seats and found ordinary radio-telephone handsets: black and compact, with tiny antennae. There were five of them in all.

- They're artefacts for voice communication," Fred explained.

- Artifacts? - Hermione snorted. - 'They look like ordinary telephones.

- They used to be Muggle phones," George said. - 'But the workshop put a Protean spell on them. Dad called this artefact a magophone. We have one of those, too.

Richard picked up one of the magophones and twirled it around in his hands. He was immediately struck by the presence of additional keys, not the usual one to nine and zero, but one to fifteen. In addition to them there were two more buttons: green and red. On the back of each handset a number from one to five was printed in white paint.

George began to explain:

- With these artefacts you can talk to the owner of one of the fifteen magophones at any distance. We all have one of these. You have to press the owner's number and then the green button. To end the call, you have to press the red button. Dad's number is six, Mum's seven, Bill's eight, Charlie's nine. Percy is ten, Fred is eleven, I am twelfth, Ron is thirteenth, Ginny is fourteenth. The fifteenth pipe is in the workshop.

- Hmm..." Richard said. - So I've got phones one through five. But you said you could communicate anywhere on the planet, didn't you?

- Exactly! - Fred said proudly.

Richie pressed the '6' button and the call. Bringing the receiver to his ear, he heard nothing but silence. There was no familiar beep, like on a telephone. But soon Arthur Weasley's voice came from the speaker.

- Hello. Lord Grosvenor, is that you?

- Good afternoon, Mr Weasley. Thank you for the prototypes, interesting idea. Do you have some sort of caller ID?

- Hello, Lord," Arthur replied. - Yes, we have enchanted the mahophone so that the number from which the call comes is displayed on the screen.

- Mr Weasley, your boys said that these artefacts work anywhere in the world. Is that really true?

- Yes, sir," Arthur said. - It's a Protean enchantment!

- Mr Weasley, can other information besides voice be transmitted?

- Of course! - Arthur said in an affirmative tone. - You can make combined mirrors to transmit image and sound. You can only transmit sound or text if you combine several parchments.

- Can you transmit just information in the form of a stream of light? - Richard asked excitedly. - Zeros and ones. That is, a microscopic ray of light and its absence. You can transmit an image somehow.

- Um..." Arthur Weasley said thoughtfully, and then added, "I suppose something like that could be done. I'm just not quite sure what you mean by that.

- Mr Weasley, I need a number of miniature devices that can receive and transmit information in the form of directed beams of light or lasers. This artefact will need to be made compatible with Muggle computer boards. I will ask my acquaintances to send you engineers who will be able to write the specifications in more detail and explain the idea.

- Very well, Lord Grosvenor," Arthur replied. - I'll tell the boys in the workshop to be ready for the next Muggle.

- Thank you, Mr Weasley. You amaze and delight me as always. Good day to you.

Richard was staring at the Weasley twins and Hermione with curious eyes.

- Richie, what are you up to? - Hermione asked.

- 'Oh yes, greatest Lord,' said Fred in a joking tone, 'share your wisdom with your foolish subjects.

- Gentlemen, ladies," Richie gave each of the people in the compartment a slight bow. - You see before you a future tycoon, whose invisible tentacles will envelope the entire world in a network of the Internet. Within ten years, my satellites will be orbiting the planet, providing free internet for everyone on Earth.

- Free? - Hermione asked.

- Internet? - Fred asked in bewilderment.

- Internet! - replied Richard. - A treasure trove of knowledge. All the information known to mankind that anyone can access: books, films, music, photographs, newspapers, magazines, games. But of course, most people will be looking at pictures of SEALs, arguing about silly topics, and watching other people try to reproduce.

Hermione's cheeks flushed. She said:

- 'Richie, I know what the internet is, although I'm not sure it's exactly what it is. But why is it free? Is it a bargain?

- Oh, yes, Hermione! - Richard stretched out in a satisfied tone. - It's incredibly profitable. Insanely profitable. A narrow data channel of five hundred and twelve kilobits per second will be provided free of charge. That should hook a lot of users. But in the process, they'll want more. And then they will be able to get a wider channel for a subscription fee.

- Five hundred and twelve kilobits?! - Hermione said in amazement. - That's a lot!

- Ha-ha-ha!

Richard, a child of another world in which a gigabit channel was considered too small, could not refrain from laughing. When he calmed down, he explained:

- It seems like a lot now. In ten years it will be much better, but in thirty years it will seem too slow. In half a century it will be enough for pinging at most.

Hermione could not refrain from asking:

- But how could such a thing be realised? Wouldn't that be a violation of the statute of secrecy?

- No," Grosvenor shook his head negatively. - I'll just set up a factory to produce secret "chips" that I won't patent. Everyone will think that my company produces unique technical products for high-speed data transmission. In reality, they'll sell modems with enchanted chips. All I'll have to do is come up with a defence so that if you try to remove the miniature artefact, it will self-destruct. This would not threaten to expose the secrecy statute, so the wizards should not care about that. The only problem would be monopoly. Anti-trust sanctions will probably get me in a lot of trouble, but there's always a way around them.

- Yeah? How? - Hermione asked.

Fred and George listened to Richard's speech with delight on their faces. They looked at him as if he were the earthly incarnation of a god.

Richard didn't see fit to withhold common knowledge, so he answered honestly:

- Hermione, I don't know why you need this information, but the easiest way to get around the antitrust laws is to create several companies and produce the same products under different names. Of course, you will have to create the appearance of competition between these firms, but it is all easily realisable. The schemes of such financial frauds have been known for a long time, and it is almost impossible to prove a violation.

- Guru! - Fred collapsed to his knees.

- Guru! - repeated after his twin brother George.

- Teach us to be great businessmen like you! - said Fred.

- Yes, Master, we beg you to take us on as apprentices! - George bowed low.

- Clowns! - Richard said good-naturedly. - I will see to your behaviour.

- We have ideas, O greatest of Lords! - Fred stretched out like a prayer.

- Yes, sir! Ideas for future business," George echoed him. - We even have some magical developments.

Richard replied:

- 'If you have ideas, come to me and share them. If they turn out to be worthwhile, I will be ready to become your investor. Or, as an alternative, you will work as magical engineers in my enterprise with a very good salary. If your designs prove to be very worthwhile, you will get a share in the business. Think about the last option, it will be much more profitable than any business among wizards.

The Weasley twins began making playful attempts to kiss Grosvenor's shoes, which caused Richard and Hermione to smile. Barely fighting off the twins, the young Earl made his way out into the vestibule and continued back to his compartment in the company of his mate.

Richie and Hermione returned to the last carriage in the dark as the Hogwarts Express began to slow down.

Richard was surprised to see the swelling under Ron's left eye and the bruised knuckles on Harry's right fist.

- Did you two get into a fight? - Richard asked.

- There were three people here..." Harry waved his right hand.

- Malfoy and his mates," Ron hissed angrily. - "You've seen Harry Potter," Ron hissed angrily, "and then that creep Malfoy and his mates came in and asked us, 'Have you seen Harry Potter? Then that creep Malfoy started insulting me.

- Yeah," Harry confirmed. - Ron punched Malfoy in the eye. Draco's mates threw themselves at him. I, of course, did what Uncle Scott taught me to do and punched the bastards. Tough bastards! But there was nothing they could do against karate and judo.

- I punched Crabbe in the face, too," Justin said. - You don't go three against one! Those wizards have no sense of honour.

- Fighting is wrong! - Hermione said indignantly in the voice of a strict teacher. - How could you?!

It was obvious from Ron that he was going to answer the girl with something nasty. Richard was ahead of the red-haired boy.

- Hermione, remember for life: fighting is perfectly normal for boys. Never lecture boys over a fight unless you want to turn them against you. You can be supportive, you can be silent, but don't tell them that self-defence and honour defence are bad. No, no, no, no! Defending your honour and your friend is sacred.

- Fighting is bad," Hermione pouted.

- It's bad," Richard agreed, "but it's worse to show weakness and let them wipe their feet on you. If you bend once, you'll be a wimp for the rest of your life.

- Richie's right," Harry said seriously.

- Yeah," Ron nodded.

- We couldn't watch three guys beating Ron up! - Justin added.

- Boys! - Hermione snorted like a cat. - The train's pulling into the station," she added in a stern tone, "It's time for you to change. And so do I, so get out.

- Hermione," Richard looked at her reproachfully, "we all need to change, that's putting on robes. If you listen to you, this activity is like an erotic performance. I don't think anyone should leave for such a small thing.

- Pfft! - Hermione turned up her nose.

The girl realised that Richard was right, but didn't want to admit that he was.

- By the way, Hermione," Richard continued, "I told you Malfoy was an arsehole. Here's a perfect example," he pointed at Ron's black eye. - Came in, insulted our mate, started a fight in the middle of nowhere. And that's just the flowers, I'm sure there'll be berries. I've seen a few of these big boys who think they can do anything. We call them lousy sheep here.

The Hogwarts Express stopped at the station, which was dimly lit by old-fashioned lanterns. The children piled into the vestibule in front of the doors and piled into the exit in a noisy crowd.

Soon the whole company was on the platform. The bulk of the schoolchildren were hurrying towards the carriages. A three-metre tall bearded giant in a mole's coat attracted a lot of attention. He waved a huge oil lantern and thundered:

- Freshers, this way!

Harry Potter grabbed Richard's elbow and said in a frightened voice:

- It's him! Richie, it's the woodsman who tore up our tent.

Before Richard could answer anything, at that moment the big man looked straight at the group of freshers, or rather at Potter, who tried to hide behind Richie's back.

- Harry. It's... You don't be afraid. Then it's..." the giant ruffled his thick, dark hair with a shovel-sized fist in embarrassment. - I wanted to congratulate you, but I didn't know you'd be scared. Come here, I won't hurt you.

- Fuck off! - whispered Harry Potter. - Richie, go on ahead.

- Don't you feel sorry for me? - Richard was in no hurry to move forward. - I'm the only heir to the Grosvenors, and I've got my whole life to live.

- He won't hurt you, because your uncle didn't shoot him," Potter whispered.

- Boys, what are you doing? - Hermione looked at Harry and Richie in surprise.

- Guys, it's Hagrid! - Ron said in equal amazement. - My brothers told me that he's very kind.

- You go to him, Ron," Harry suggested.

- We'll have to go anyway," Richard said in a fatalistic tone. - Eh.

Stumbling, the boys followed the group of first-years down the dark path toward the lake. Richard was quietly retelling the story of Hagrid's visit to Harry Potter to Ron, Justin, and Hermione. The listeners started to stay away from the half-giant after that. They were particularly taken by the moment in which the injured giant growled and crawled towards Harry's uncle, clearly not for the purpose of a nice hug.

Hermione shared in a whisper with those around her:

- I probably would have died on the spot if a big guy like that had burst into my house in the middle of the night instead of Professor McGonagall and started talking to my parents in raised tones.

- And how many years did he pretend to be a nice guy," Ron muttered. - That's how you trust people.

The boat ride on the lake at night, the beautiful view of the old castle, and the walk through the stone corridors, accompanied by Professor McGonagall, to whom Hagrid had given the children, passed Richard's mind. Yes, not bad and impressive, but all the boy's attention was focused on the woodsman. It's hard to admire beautiful views when your nerves are taut as a string.

Only the appearance of the ghosts from the wall made Richard mobilise his body's resources and switch his attention to the new danger. A small room, a crowd of children, ghosts, girls squealing... And in such an environment, a thought occurred to Richard:

"Ghosts or holograms with a copy of a person's personality mind? If the former, then it is a semblance of immortality, albeit in one of its worst manifestations. If the second..."

Hermione tried to stay close to the point of calm. Although she pretended that she, unlike the other girls, wasn't scared at all, she was actually scared shitless of ghosts. And here was a calm Richie. Before Granger knew it, she was hiding behind Grosvenor's back.

A sudden change in Richard's behaviour did not escape Hermione's attention. He stared at the nearest ghost with the eyes of a vicious predator and licked his lips in anticipation.

- Iskins..." he muttered.

- What?" Hermione asked.

- Hermione, do you think," Richard continued in a normal voice, "that ghosts could be like a solid hologram with a reflection of personality?

- I guess I don't know," Granger shrugged. - But I'll be sure to read up on them.

- You do," Richard nodded. - You can tell me about it later.

- Richie, aren't you interested in reading about them yourself? - Hermione asked curiously.

- I'm interested, but I don't think I'll have time for it," Grosvenor said nonchalantly. - I can rely on you for analysis, can't I?

- Erm..." Granger was confused. - 'Yes, of course. I'll help you. And what will you be doing?

- Studying, business, networking," Richard listed. - With such a busy schedule, there won't be time for more education. That's why I need help.

- You can count on me," Granger replied firmly.

Hermione was bursting with excitement. For the first time, she was needed by someone. Her talent, her love of books, could be of use to... a friend? The girl would like to believe it.

Suddenly, Hermione was overcome with jealousy. It was caused by some girl with swamp green eyes, dark brown hair and rough facial features. She approached Richie from the back and hooked into his right elbow as Granger stood on his left side.

- Draco, who are you with?" the girl asked.

Richard couldn't help but notice that someone had taken him under the elbow. He turned around at the voice and found an unfamiliar girl.

- 'Good evening, miss,' he replied. - I'm afraid you have the wrong person. Mr Malfoy and his friends are standing up front.

- You're not Draco! - the girl said in surprise with a hint of indignation. - Who are you?

- We are not introduced, miss. Richard Grosvenor.

The girl, to Hermione's delight, let go of Richard's hand as if it were a snake. With an arrogant scowl on her face, she introduced herself:

- Pansy Parkinson. Are you a thoroughbred?

Richard's face remained politely calm. In an exaggeratedly cold tone, he replied:

- 'Miss, please excuse my indelicacy, but I must point out that it is unseemly to ask a wizard such questions. If you prefer the society of pure-blooded wizards only, then alas, I will disappoint you, my father is a simple man.

Hermione put her palms to her mouth so that no one would notice her laughing. A simple man... Duke! That was the kind of perl she didn't expect to hear.

- Ugh! - Pansy squeamishly wiped her palms on her robe. - How dare you look like my Dracusick?!

- Miss, if I may say so," Grosvenor grinned, "my wardrobe is impeccable, as a young gentleman should be. If you are not satisfied with the society of a man of my position, alas, I cannot help it. Your right, miss.

- I won't sit at the same table with the likes of you! - Parkinson said arrogantly.

- Your right, miss," Richard said coldly. - But I must say that it's rather inconvenient to eat outside the table. Though Grandma Lisa's corgis do like to eat off the floor.

Nose held high, Pansy headed in Draco's direction. For a moment, Malfoy turned around, revealing his swollen nose and a bruise under his eyes that promised to soon turn into two gorgeous bruises.

Hermione was pleased to be rid of the rival to her mate. But she couldn't contain her curiosity.

- 'Do the Queen's corgis really like to eat off the floor?

- Yes," Richard nodded. - They take the food out of the bowl and eat it off the floor. Apparently it tastes better that way, but I haven't checked. They're nice dogs, but they're scared. The Christmas before last, Bill gave my grandmother a toy hamster that sang Christmas songs loudly. The poor dog got scared and ran into the other room. But Grandma loved the present.

- Bill? - Hermione squinted at Richard. - 'Isn't that Prince William by any chance? - she whispered.

- Not by chance," Richard replied. - It is.

- Your presents are strange," Hermione said, her lips tightening. - "My parents gave me the Encyclopaedia Britannica this Christmas.

- It was a nice present, but..." Grosvenor stretched out. - Hermione, we have a tradition of giving inexpensive joke gifts. I was thinking of ordering multi-coloured mugs in the shape of human faces with open mouths in which to store sugar. It would look like the mug has a mouthful of refined sugar and is trying to spit it out.

- Cute...," Granger pursed her lips.

Professor McGonagall entered the room. Her stern gaze was fixed on the ghosts as they hastily began to trickle through the wall.

- Line up one behind the other," she commanded, "and follow me.

Unlike the rest of the children, who were experiencing a great deal of excitement, Richard remained calm. The reason for this was the ghosts. The boy tried to think of a use for them and pondered the question of whether it was possible to imprison a ghost in a microprocessor and ensure its loyalty to follow commands without the possibility of rebellion.

On a wave of reflection, Richard remembered one of the unforgivable spells - Imperio. An enchantment that gives a wizard complete power over the one on whom it is cast. Wizarding law forbids the use of this spell on a human, but nowhere does it say you can't enchant a ghost and imprison it in a microchip.

The freshmen left the small room and crossed the spacious hall. Passing through the double doors, the children found themselves in the Great Hall.

Richard noted that the place was quite beautiful, but also odd. The hall was lit by thousands of candles floating in the air above the four long tables where the older students sat. The tables were littered with gleaming golden plates and goblets.

At the other end of the hall, the teachers sat at an equally long table.

The vice-principal led the freshers to this particular table and ordered them to turn to face the students, respectively, with their sirloins facing the teachers.

- Richie, look.

Hermione tugged Richard by the sleeve of his robes and drew his attention to the ceiling: black, studded with stars. It felt like being under the open sky. Richard could compare it to the glass ceiling in the royal palace, for example.

- It was enchanted to look like the sky," Hermione whispered, not leaving Richard's side. - "I read it in the History of Hogwarts.

- It looks like a real-time hologram," Richard replied in the same whisper. - Most likely, there's a video camera-like receiver on the roof and a broadcasting spell on the ceiling. If we develop this idea, we can create artefacts for filming and playing back holograms. Hermione, can you find information on these charms? I'll send it to the wizards in my workshop.

- I'll do my best, Richie," the girl replied.

Some sound reached Richard's ears. When he looked down at the ceiling, he saw that the Vice-Principal had placed a three-legged stool in front of a row of freshmen and placed a pointed Magic Hat on it.

The hat had an unsightly appearance: shabby, patched, dirty.

All the people gathered stared at the hat.

The whispering stopped, and for a few seconds there was silence in the hall. And then the hat moved. In the next instant a mouth-like hole appeared in it, and it sang. It didn't just sing, as if playing music through a record player, it sang in a meaningful way.

Richard thought at that moment:

"My God! Is this all happiness for me? Of course, I'm a hit man, but to have so many pianos falling out all at once on the same day - it's too much. A quantum transmitter, a holographic projector and holocamera, two kinds of seekers... I can't believe I'm lucky to have all this. The universe seems to love me. How could it not, with all these goodies?! All I have to do is collect them."

Hermione tore her gaze away from the singing hat and turned her attention to Richard's incredibly happy face. The boy looked spirited, as if an angel had descended to him from heaven or if he had been given a gift of something he had always dreamed of. Listening closer, Hermione discerned a quiet, on the verge of being audible, whispered muttering:

- Royals... Seekins... Love, love, love... Seekinchik... My precious! Come to daddy...