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It was getting late, but there was still plenty of time before sundown. I got up from the table, tidied myself up quickly, put on my suit, and checked my cane and wand on my forearm. I noticed for the umpteenth time that the suit would be too small if I grew up a little more. So, one of these days, I will need to update my wardrobe.

"Kreacher!"

The house-elf appeared with a clap and bowed.

"I'm leaving soon. I don't know when I'll be. Do you have something to eat in a hurry?"

"Sure," nodded the house-elf. "Kreacher asks you to come to the kitchen..."

The house-elf himself apparated, and when I went down from the third floor to the designated kitchen, the place at the head was already laid on a large and long wooden table. There were several sandwiches with bacon and greens on the plates and apple juice in a tall glass. Yes, it's not only Timmy at Hogwarts who knows my tastes in such drinks. Oh, it's a pity that I had heartburn from apple juice in my previous life — I would have drunk liters without stopping. And here I can afford it, but I don't really want to, even though the juice remains my favorite.

I was thinking about the twists and turns of fate and changes of priorities in food, transforming the button into a ring and enchanting it with a special portkey to the coordinates and back to the point of departure, and I quickly managed with sandwiches. By this time, the owl had flown in again. After taking the letter and reading Hermione's brief thoughts on the parents' stubbornness, I ordered Kreacher to treat an owl and send it away. I put on Muggle-Repelling charm and walked out of the house to the evening Grimmauld Square.

People of average income hurried around to their homes, sometimes they talked about something, and young people were wandering around the grove. Without wasting time, I apparated to one of the famous streets of Crawley - I was passing through this suburb. I didn't want to puncture the space in the immediate vicinity of Hermione's house. When I appeared in the alley behind the minimarket, I checked to see if the charm worked and went on foot to the right street.

I hadn't paid much attention to this suburb last time, but now I could afford a five-minute walk. Private houses, quite decent, better than average, but not villas. And most importantly, each house is special, not at all like the previous one. Different architecture and facades, colors, backyard gardens, one or two garages. In general, a variety. historical

When I reached the right house, I calmly walked up and used the bell. After only a couple of seconds, the door opened, revealing Hermione in shapeless gray house pants, slippers, and an equally shapeless plaid shirt with rolled-up sleeves.

"Max!" the girl smiled, immediately rushing to hug.

"It's like we haven't seen each other in a thousand years," I answered the hug with a smile, and Hermione, pulling away, kissed me quickly and lightly on the lips. "Tell me what happened?"

"Come in."

The girl waved her hand invitingly, and I stepped inside. Judging by the shoe rack, the rug, and other accessories in the hallway, it is not customary to wear shoes in this house, so I took my shoes off and followed Hermione in.

The house looked more than decent. Everything is in bright colors and modern design, a kind of minimalism. The furniture is also light, and in different places, one could see either photographs or pots with indoor plants, and even a couple of small palms grew in the corners. We went to the kitchen, which turned out to be combined with the dining room, but this decision will surprise no one here.

"Mom, Dad. Max is here."

"Ah, Mr. Knight," John smiled faintly, rising from the table and holding out his hand. "What brings you here?"

"How officially," I smiled and shook his hand. I declined the invitation to sit down. "As far as I know, you have a conflict?"

"In a way," Mrs. Granger nodded. "Hermione insists that we should leave the country for our own safety."

Mr. Granger snorted, making himself comfortable at the table. They were dressed in everything comfortable and homely.

"You don't think so?"

"Well, what's the danger?" the father of the family grinned. "Why would any wizards touch us at all? And even if so, then there is the police, and these, what's their name?"

"DMLE and Aurors," Hermione nodded.

"Here. In addition, Hermione told us what you learn at school and that there is no further education. All kinds of interesting spells and charms, transformations. I can hit a squirrel in the eye with a hunting rifle from a hundred meters. Do you think that's not enough, Max?"

"I think you underestimate the strength and capabilities of wizards, as well as the degree of your protection. Under the laws of Wizarding England, almost any action against ordinary people is not considered a crime. You are not protected at all."

"I can take care of my family somehow," Mr. Granger nodded importantly.

"See?" Hermione looked at me with undisguised indignation. "It's useless."