HP: Spirit Talker

As I watched a proud boy with a strong ego and all being ruthlessly broken by a strong woman, I felt no compassion. I even had the thought that Theodore might become a tyrant in the family, or a "gay", or a complete masochist, with the painful pleasure of watching his wife have someone else (I had once heard of such a perversion while still in Japan).

I didn't feel an ounce of pity or sympathy for the younger Nott, let alone the older one. They both deserved a painful death, and it's only because of their ancestors that they will continue to live; if they didn't have their gifts, the Nott family would have been interrupted. But that doesn't mean I'm going to deny my ally the pleasure, oh no, Bellatrix and Narcissa will have the most fun — I'm sure of it.

Only the weak and naive think that forgiveness and a kind word from a man can accomplish anything, especially from a man who has spent his entire life treating those around him as filthy animals worthy of nothing more than licking the road in front of him. So much anger, arrogance, squeamish mockery of everyone below him in status, without exception — it is not worthy, especially if you are different only by the fact of lucky birth into the "right" family, and in fact not even a finger on the finger, did not become someone important, did not write his name in history, even banal did not prove his strength and intelligence.

 Voldemort was worthy of respect, if only because he was a half-blood from an orphanage, and he subjugated all the pure-bloods who had long since fallen from their former level, when they were looked up to and wanted to be the same. The Dark Lord had power, intelligence, charisma, and cunning, which he used so effectively that the third generation of idiots were willing to crawl on their knees before him, a half-blood, and lick his boots or his urine-stained robe. And these "lords" are not to be respected, nor are their descendants, the same fanatical idiots, victims of abortion.

— Mr. Nott, open the door, — I was tired of being here, tired of watching other people have fun, and I wasn't used to having fun like this.

— I can't do this. — Lionel tried to show that he was sorry to disappoint his dear guests, but the circumstances were beyond him, he was their hostage. — I'm willing to take all the oaths and vows that I will perform all the rituals properly, but I can't let you go to the Stone of Kinship and Source. — I can't let you go to the Ancestor Stone and the Source.

— Lenny, Cruciatus or Imperius? — Bella smiled tenderly. — Or Avada in your son? — The man tensed sharply, knowing that Bellatrix was a passionate, temperamental woman, and she wouldn't think long, she'd shoot, and that was that. — Better to ask forgiveness than permission, — was her motto. He glanced at me, then turned back to her.

— I'm running out of patience, Mr. Nott, — I said as if addressing no one, staring at the ceiling. — Your son is younger, and he's just coming into his own, including his manhood. — Now I lower my eyes to him and look into his eyes. — After what you and I do in front of him, the boy will do it all on his own, without prompting. — Not the older one, nor the younger one, in addition Theodore also tried to portray something like a haughty sneer, but only when you are very scared, it becomes very difficult to play the face. — You've got thirty seconds, and then I'm going to start having fun....

I looked at him indifferently: I was not joking, his son will be more than enough, and less trouble — there will be no need to keep an eye on this "lord". Maybe that's what I should do? As I pondered, I watched Lionel, who looked like he was about to turn into a baked apple.

Whispering oaths and curses under his breath, the man moved toward the entrance, where he went about his business, but a few times he cast angry, furious glances at me and Bellatrix. Well, I could even understand him. Only you were the master of life, at your one gesture it spun and twirled, and then — pop, and you are no longer the master, and are forced to obey those you consider much worse and lower than yourself.

The massive doors opened silently, despite their imposing thickness and undoubted weight. The way to the altar of the Nott family was nothing out of the ordinary: an ordinary dungeon with stone walls and stairs, and enough magical torches on the walls to keep you from breaking your neck in the dark. Not dank, not cold, not boring. Oh, and the central chamber itself was, well... ordinary. That is, there was nothing particularly interesting about it: a room shaped like a hemisphere, with a massive rectangular stone slab in the center, under which an old magical spring could be felt.

On the flat stone of the floor were scrawled and cast metal bases for magic circles, bright torches. That's it, nothing else of interest. Nott tried to sabotage the ritual of recognizing his new position, but to no avail; there was nothing to describe: long, long chants, a few flashes of light, blood on the altar, and after an hour Lionel froze, showing a fierce unwillingness to finish the job. His son was not required to do anything of the sort, for he was not the head of the family, but the man found it hard to tame his pride.

— Come on, Lenny, come on, don't be shy, — the brunette grinned, showing off her beautiful leg in a knee-high laced boot. — Come on, you can do it, — the woman encouraged him, although it looked like mockery to me, and it was. — You can do it, can't you?

The man's face really darkened with anger, he was shaking, his cheekbones were jaundiced, his clenched fists turned white, but he got down on one knee and kissed the brunette's knee. A faint blue glow enveloped them both and then immediately vanished. Letting out a long breath through his nose, Lionel began to rise when everyone heard a loud snap. In disbelief, he raised his hands to his neck, his fingers touching the massive leather collar with metal elements. There was no sign of a clasp.

— What...is... — came the shocked voice of Nott the Elder, raising his eyes to a broadly smiling Bellatrix. She shook her breathtaking mane of hair.

— It was invented by an ancestor of mine, Vega Black, especially for disobedient and headstrong subordinates like you, Lenny.

— Take it off... — Nott said softly as his son felt the same collar around his neck that Narcissa had skillfully placed on him. — Take it off now, bitch! — The wizard raised his voice for the first time, but immediately grabbed the collar and gasped, breaking his fingernails on its surface and kicking his feet on the floor, falling to his side.

— Lady Black didn't like it when any of her subordinates behaved unworthily or cast a shadow on their masters. — Bella spoke as if nothing had happened. — But she realized that it was impossible to follow every servant around the clock, so she invented the Worthy Dog collar. — The woman smiled broadly into the desperate eyes of Lionel, who was no longer being choked by the collar.

— A good dog should know when it's okay to bark and when it's okay to be quiet, and the collar teaches that. — Lionel was twisted with rage. — Whenever you misbehave, insult the honor of the Black Family, or bring the affairs of the Black Family into disrepute, you will be punished. Lady Vega was a noble inventor, so I'm sure you'll find a wide range of punishments. Enjoy it, Lenny, — Bella smiled lasciviously as she looked into the fierce eyes. — You and I will live in peace and friendship for a long time. .....