Aristocrat (HP/SI)

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***

Someone had to answer for the framing of the Minister of Magic. Richard was thirsty for the blood of those responsible. The fate of the wizard snitches was sealed, for young Grosvenor, not relying on the integrity of magical justice, had involved Madam Marchbanks, to whom he had told some of the truth in a letter, as he had to Mr Weasley. In her reply letter, the Elder of the Wizengamot promised that the thieving wizards would be tried to the full extent of the law and face six to three years in Azkaban.

Richie was sure that Dumbledore was involved in the situation, but there was no proof of that. So he decided that despite his father's request, he would still steal the Philosopher's Stone to get revenge on the headmaster. It was no longer a matter of trying to save the world, it became a matter of honour.

The holidays came quickly, almost instantly. Richard, along with most of the schoolchildren, loaded into the carriage of the Hogwarts Express, but the boy was not going to waste a few hours of time. As soon as the train pulled away from Hogsmeade station, Richie used the portal, of course, warning his father with a call on the magophone.

Gerald Grosvenor, looking a little thin and worried, was pleased to see his son.

- Richie," he hugged the boy joyfully, "how you've grown! Tell me, how are you doing?

- Erm..." Richard hesitated.

Gerald tensed and pulled away from his son. He looked at Richard carefully and asked:

- Did something happen again? An assassination attempt?!

- Something happened, but it wasn't an assassination attempt," Richie replied. - Dad, I'm sure you're aware of the supply of magical things to the secret services...

- Of course," the Duke said with a serious look, nodding his chin. - You didn't think you could keep such a scam a secret from me, did you? But I've been assured that it's all worked out so that officially no one can get to the bottom of it: neither the wizards nor our law.

- So, Minister Fudge tried to arrest me, insulted me, threatened me, and even dared to refer to himself as if he were a king. Imagine, he thought he had the right to judge an aristocrat of the royal family!

- It's a serious accusation," Gerald said. - I want all the details.

Richard recounted to his father everything that had happened to him in the Headmaster's office, remembering every detail. He had to repeat the story several times, recalling and describing what he had forgotten to mention the first time.

Richard and Gerald were seated in armchairs in the drawing room near the fireplace. The Duke sank into thought for a long time. He was angry, from rage and indignation man's fists involuntarily clenched, and the jaundice walked round.

- What does this upstart think he's doing?! - The Duke's voice was cold with rage. - The queen will be very displeased. Some wizard, temporarily elected minister, dares to claim her right to judge aristocrats! But that's not the point... He dares to threaten my son!!!! Threaten... I will crush that Fudge to dust!

- Dad, I think it was a provocation," Richard said.

- Provocation? - His head tilted to the side and he looked at his son questioningly.

- Yes," Richard nodded. - Fudge is an idiot who has inexplicably risen to high office. They say it's not without Dumbledore's help. Someone is trying to probe us through him. Watching our reactions. Do we respond or do we bear it? If we do, how? Do we have any real power or ability to stand up to the wizards....

- Hm... - Gerald rubbed his chin thoughtfully. - Yes, son... Indeed, it seems so. This is no longer our personal business, but a challenge to the Queen and the secret services. We can't tolerate such a spit in the face and must demonstrate our power and strength to the wizards. Fudge must be dealt with. But there must be someone behind him.

- Dad, that's what I thought. I think it's Dumbledore. Except I don't have any proof. It's as smooth as it can be. But according to the criminal psychiatrist's description, it's Albus Dumbledore's character to be so subtle and manipulative.

- Richie, don't worry about anything," Gerald said. - Your business is to learn magic, and the dirty politics will be handled by adults who are professionals. Once again, stay out of trouble. And you have to stop supplying magic items to the secret service.

- I already have. I've alerted my contact and instructed Arthur Weasley to have the workshop concentrate on developing new items. If it works out, I can resume supplies soon and get a more serious, legitimate business going.

- Richie, what are you up to? - The Duke asked anxiously.

- Dad, it's nothing dangerous. I just bribed the International Confederation of Mages to pass a law so that I could trade magical things with normal people. It's expensive, but it's worth it.

- Are you sure it's safe? - Gerald continued to worry.

- The mosquito won't poke its nose in!

Richie told his father about the MCM and the way he was going to get the law passed. Gerald perked up.

- Son, it's foolish to hope for a miracle," said the Duke. - You must bribe most of the MCM chairmen, or the money will be wasted. You must have a preponderance of votes regardless of the actions of the other delegates.

- Money is needed," Richard shrugged. - I have several tonnes of valuable metals.

- Do you need gold? - Gerald asked.

- Yes.

- You'll have it! - Grosvenor Senior said firmly.

***

Grosvenor Junior's short Christmas holidays were very busy and productive.

The day after Christmas dinner at the royal palace, Richie exchanged all the precious metal bars he had accumulated for gold, which he took to Gringotts and replenished the safe with tinkling Galleons. The sum turned out to be very impressive by the standards of wizards, and ordinary people could envy such money - nine million forty-five thousand galleons. This is taking into account the fact that ten per cent of the price of metals had to be discounted to the intermediary-banker. And another one per cent went to the goblins.

Richard thought it was amazing why the wizarding economy hadn't collapsed yet. It was understandable, where so much money to buy gold came from - the goblins had accumulated a large amount of coins during the existence of the bank, moreover, these short people stamp them themselves. Another thing was surprising - a first-year wizard, conjuring once a day or two before going to bed, with the help of a well-known spell, earned a fortune. Couldn't other wizards do the same? They can! Very much so. And some even use something similar, as Madame Marchbanks alluded to. But...

There is an explanation. Richie is rich and titled, so there's no doubt that he has a lot of gold. If an ordinary wizard had come to the goblins, he would have been ripped off or turned over to the Aurors. The latter happens most often, so clever wizards try to cash small amounts of money, so as not to stand out and not to attract the attention of law enforcement agencies.

Goblins love gold, but at the same time they hate wizards, which is not even hidden. But the same Richard Grosvenor, hate him or not - he is the son of a duke. Goblins, not being stupid, unlike some wizards, understood perfectly well on the territory of whose country they live. Therefore, they had no plans to quarrel with the royal family. On the contrary, they tried their best to establish good relations with an important person. Well, the thirst for profit in the hearts of these little guys is strong and indestructible, and most of all they love gold. It beckons them, as it once beckoned adventurers from all over the world to Eldorado. For this reason, Richard had the best service at Gringotts, and he took it for granted.

In general, for the near future, the problems with chips, that is, with magic money, Richie safely solved, and he didn't need any philosopher's stone for that.

The next day Richard had to visit home to Mr. Merdit Corner - not old grey-haired wizard, who holds the post of the Chairman of the ICM from Great Britain.

Over a cup of tea, the young Earl discussed various topics with the elderly wizard. But the central topic of the conversation was an agreement to bribe other ICM Chairmen.

To Richard's great regret, Mr Weasley managed to bribe only the most corrupt and cheapest chairmen. He lacked the acquaintance, persistence, and determination to approach the others. Mr Corner, on the other hand, was not known for his cleanliness, had extensive acquaintances, and was very greedy for money.

As a result of the tea party, it was agreed that Merdith Corner would bribe thirty-five or even forty other members of the MCM to ensure that he would win a majority of votes. For his mediation and efforts he would receive ten per cent of the amount spent on bribes. That said, he was allotted a limit so that the wizard would not get too brazen.

Just the next day, Grosvenor's bank vault at Gringotts began to thin rapidly. There was no doubt in Richie's mind that Corner would take out the entire three million galleons limit. But there was also no doubt that the wily wizard would definitely buy the right number of votes.

Perhaps the next unscheduled meeting of the International Confederation of Mages is planned to be the most corrupt in the history of this organisation. Richard doubted that it had ever occurred to any of the magicians before to spend twenty million pounds to pass the necessary law. After all, a magician with such a fortune could live happily all his long life, and there would be money left for his grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

In addition, Richard had to devote time to business and deal with the accumulated documentation.

As a result, the short holidays flew by like one day.

Young Grosvenor got on the Hogwarts Express almost just before departure. As was usually the case, those who lived nearby were the most likely to be late. Richie, though he lived far from King Cross Station, had hoped to get there quickly through the portal. At first the presence of servants prevented him from travelling, and he found himself in his London home a little later than planned. Then the car broke down unexpectedly, and Richie hoped that it would be repaired, but such a trick did not work with Bentley - only to take it by tow truck to the service. They had to call a taxi, but it took a long time to get there. In the end, Richard, accompanied by his bodyguard, walked to the railway station.

The train started within seconds after Richie was in the carriage. All the compartments were filled with students, so the boy had to look for people he knew.

Eventually Richard came to a compartment where Hermione Granger was sitting alone.

- Greetings, Hermione," Richard bowed politely, but his speech was choppy due to his heavy breathing after running.

- Richie," Granger cheered. - 'Did you run?

- I had to. It was like a string of bad luck all at once. But that's beside the point. Did you like my present?

- Yes, thank you," a happy smile graced Hermione's face. - The handbag with the expanded space is just incredible! Thank you, Richie. I'm sorry, but I...

- You're welcome," Richard interrupted the girl, noticing that she lowered her eyes in shame. - Thank you too," he smiled warmly. - What a great present! The leopard bath mat is adorable! I can see that you've got the royal spirit. It's a princess gift, no less! I'd even say royal.....

- Well," Hermione's cheeks flushed, "I thought you said it was a joke gift. And yourself... the handbag...

- It just pained me to see you carrying around the library," Richard replied. - If you like, next Christmas I'll give you a present in our family style.

- I don't mind," Granger perked up. - They're practically royal gifts!

Richard laughed merrily and gave Hermione a thumbs up.

- 'Richie, and, if it's not a secret, can we find out about what was given to the Queen? - Granger asked.

- You wouldn't believe it...

- What?! - Hermione's curiosity was getting the better of her.

- 'No, you might take offence...'

- Well, Richie..." the girl said in a pleading tone. - I promise I won't be offended.

- All right, I'll tell you, - Richard took a deep breath and exhaled:- Princess Diana gave the Queen the exact same leopard bath mat!

There was silence in the compartment for a while. Hermione tried to digest what had been said. First she opened her mouth in astonishment, then she clapped her eyelashes together. Suddenly her face cleared up, the corners of her lips pulled upwards, and then the compartment erupted into a peal of girlish laughter. Granger laughed loudly and couldn't calm down for quite some time, tears even spurting from her eyes. A few of the boys in the next compartment looked over to see what the girl was laughing about. Finding nothing, the neighbours went back to their compartments.

- Oh," Hermione wiped away her tears of joy, "Richie, you must have been shocked.

- Shock is our way," Richard nodded agreeably. - In fact, when I saw Princess Diana's present, I couldn't stand it and laughed. Naturally, Grandma Lisa asked me why I laughed. I honestly told her that I had received the same gift from a friend. After that she and everyone else laughed.

- Now I get it! - A realisation dawned on Hermione's face. - A royal gift!!! I gave you the same rug as Princess Diana gave to the Queen! Now I can honestly say that I give royal gifts for Christmas.

- That's what I'm talking about," Richie replied with a cheerful smile on his face.

- Richie, have you read the Daily Prophet?

- No. Anything interesting in it?

- Yes," Hermione nodded. - It said on the front page today that the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, was taken very ill.

- Interesting. Hermione, do you still have the paper?

- Yes, just a moment.

Granger pulled out a British wizarding newspaper from a small lady's purse made of light green dragon skin. On the front page was a picture of Fudge in the Minister's chair and in large letters was the headline:

Minister ill. Poisoning or an unknown illness?

- Hermione, where did you get the Daily Prophet from? - Richard looked at the girl curiously.

- I decided to visit Slanting Lane during the holidays and subscribed to the newsletter of this newspaper.

- Mm-hm... I see. Excuse me, do you mind if I read it?

- No, no, of course you do.

Richard delved into the article.

Dear readers, our correspondent has learnt that the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, was admitted to St Mungo's Hospital yesterday.

Our correspondent was able to speak to the healers. Here's what healer Blishwick had to say about the Minister's condition:

- The patient's condition is consistently serious. We are keeping him in deep sleep so that the patient does not experience pain.

Naturally, our correspondent couldn't help but wonder what Mr Fudge was suffering from.

- It's a strange disease," commented Healer Blishwick. - His blood seems to be dying, and we have to keep giving him a blood-restoring potion. Due to the clotting, he is anaemic. He also suffers from vomiting, diarrhoea, dizziness, runny nose and fever. He has frequent seizures and tremors.The Daily Prophet reporter asked the healer about the source of the minister's illness.

- It's definitely poisoning by an unknown substance or a dark-magic curse," healer Blishwick told us. - The symptoms are completely atypical. So far, we can only stabilise the patient's condition. A colleague has even suggested that we contact Muggle healers, as if they might know of such a disease. Naturally, that's a load of bollocks! What could Muggles possibly know? Magical medicine is the most advanced in the world!

- Is there any chance of the minister's recovery? - asked our correspondent.

- I'm afraid there's no way of restoring Mr Fudge to full health. We will try to negate the effects of the curse or poison, but the damage done to the body can only overcome the legendary elixir of life. But Flamel is unlikely to share the Philosopher's Stone with us, even to save the Minister.

Dear readers, as you can see, Mr Cornelius Fudge, according to the words of the healer, will no longer be able to perform his functions as Minister of Magic. Therefore, the leaders of the Ministry of Magic have urgently chosen an interim Minister - Rufus Scrimger, the head of the Aurorate. The election of the new Minister is scheduled for July 1992.

Our correspondent spoke to Mr Scrimger, primarily as head of the aurorate, and asked for an explanation of Mr Fudge.

- 'Cornelius has suffered from ill-will,' Mr Scrimger stated. - His condition is the result of an assassination attempt. The Aurorat is investigating the matter. One theory is that Mr Fudge was cursed by radicals involved in a notorious group. Other theories are also being considered. Mr Fudge recently visited the Headmaster of Hogwarts and there was some conflict. We questioned Mr Dumbledore about the incident, but were unable to get a coherent answer. I don't mean to say that Dumbledore is to blame for Mr Fudge's condition, but note - it is highly suspicious that the Minister became ill after a conflict with a man who is known to be a student of the famous alchemist....

Richard leaned back on the back of the sofa with a satisfied expression on his face. He understood perfectly well who was involved in the minister's removal and even knew how the man had been poisoned.

Richie wasn't bloodthirsty, but he had been brought up so much in recent years that he took this kind of political removal of a dangerous man calmly. And given his hatred of Fudge, he was also happy.

"You should have used your head before crossing the Grosvenors," he thought.

The behaviour of the British secret services and the Queen's reaction were perfectly adequate, Richard thought. After all, he was really threatened with prison, and not some ordinary prison, but the most horrible prison on the planet - Azkaban. Even if it wasn't so, even if Fudge was just intimidating the Earl of Grosvenor, the royal family had no other leverage over this minister except preventive elimination, because it was unknown what this wizard's next move would be. Today he threatens to imprison the Earl and the godson of the first Crown Prince, and tomorrow what? Send Elizabeth II herself to Azkaban?! Britain's intelligence services do not kill on the Queen's orders anyone who looks askance at one of the Windsors, it is just completely incomprehensible what guided Fudge in his actions. From such an inadequate authority figure with a huge cadre of people with superpowers under his command, it's best really not to expect the next move.

- Richie, what did you find so funny in the article? - Hermione frowned.

- Healer Blishwick thinks too much of himself," Richard replied.

- Was it because of the Muggle reference? - Granger asked.

- 'Exactly, Miss. Exactly. And if wizards asked any doctor about the symptoms of a disease, they'd get an answer straight away.

- So you know what curse was placed on the Minister? - Hermione looked at her mate curiously.

- A curse? You flatter him, Hermione. Fudge's stupidity is congenital.

- Richie, this is the Minister. Minister Fudge! - Granger corrected the boy indignantly.

- Not anymore, Hermione. Fudge is no longer a minister.

- 'Okay, but you can be at least a little bit respectful,' Hermione said.

- 'Respect is my middle name,' Richard smiled dazzlingly. - But even the Lord's patience has limits, so be glad I'm not calling Fudge a worm or more serious epithets.

Hermione was perplexed. She didn't understand why Richard had a negative attitude towards the former Minister of Magic. Deciding to give a damn, she asked:

- 'Richie, you said you knew what the Minister was ill with...'

- I do," Richard nodded majestically.

- What is it?

- Exposure to a shock dose of radiation.

The girl fidgeted on the seat, almost jumping up and down.

- Oh, my God! That sounds like something we should tell the grown-ups about! - she exclaimed.

- No, Hermione. We don't. I'd be very offended if you did.

- But why? - Hermione's face showed a hurt expression. - We could save the Minister!- Hermione, tell me, are you loyal to the Queen and Britain?

- Yes, but... - the offence on Granger's face was replaced by bewilderment. - Why do you ask?

- Because your desire to help the Minister of Magic would be a betrayal of Queen and country. Maybe you should just count out the thirty pieces of silver! - Richard asked sarcastically. - Or have you decided to betray your country out of the goodness of your heart?

- I... N-no..." Hermione was confused. She looked at Richard with a lost and bewildered look. - I don't want to betray the country... I would never do that. How could you think such a thing?

- Huh?! - Richard grinned ironically. - Then tell me, who in our country has access to radioactive substances?

- Well-" Granger began to wind her long hair around the index finger of her right hand thoughtfully. - Nuclear physicists and someone else...

- Or Her Majesty's Secret Service. Or Fudge was trying to sneak into a facility where they work with such substances for some unknown purpose, which is worse," Richard hinted. - 'Which in turn means that Minister Fudge has threatened the country or the Queen in some way. Do you understand? And you want to save a bastard who went against the country just because he's a wizard and puts himself above ordinary people.

- Oh, my God!

Hermione had a flash of realisation on her face. She realised that it wasn't as simple as it seemed at first glance.

- Richie, I won't tell anyone! - she said sincerely.

- I hope you're not stupid after all. Just, Hermione, from now on, try to think before you act. And decide what you want to do with your life. A magical world filled with racism towards ordinary people and wizards who come from that background. A world with small salaries and no career prospects. Or you can choose the world of ordinary people, where you can get a school education, graduate from Oxford or an equally prestigious institution, and then on the patronage of a friend who will sit in the House of Lords, you will have a great career in the government and get a very decent salary. Think very carefully Hermione, you have until the end of your studies at Hogwarts.

Hermione Granger had never sunk so deeply into her thoughts. Richard's words made her think seriously about her future. Before that she had perceived the magical world as a fairy tale, but gradually the rose-coloured glasses began to crack. It had started with a troll in the ladies' room. Or not. It started with a tea party at the queen's. That really was like a fairy tale. To find oneself both at the Queen's reception and at Hogwarts seemed impossible and magical.

Richie didn't bother to distract the girl from her thoughts. He continued reading the paper. On the penultimate page was a small article.

The Wizengamot has handed down a court verdict in the case of Mr Dylan McDougal and Mr Caleb Sonder. I remind our readers that these two wizards worked at Grosvenor's Workshop. They were caught stealing from their employer. The court gave a verdict of six months in Azkaban for Mr McDougal and a year for Mr Sonder.

Richard's mood index crept up dramatically. It was hard to convey the feeling of a man whose revenge had succeeded and whose head was no longer troubled by a vengeful wizard in power. Happiness? Hardly. Delight? I suppose so. Satisfaction? Definitely yes. It's a cocktail of emotions. And it seemed to rejoice in someone else's grief, but you realise that justice has been done, and the person who once did wrong has been held accountable for his actions.

As the steam train pulled into the final station, Hermione snapped out of her musings.

- 'Richie,' she said, 'do you really want to help me with a career in the government?

- 'Yes.

- But why? - Hermione's voice was perplexed.

- Why not?

Richard shrugged his shoulders, but noticed that the girl was watching him carefully and waiting for a more detailed answer. So he clarified:

- Hermione, every politician needs his own team. People he can trust with his back and his wallet. People who will not betray and will be for him in any situation, whether he is right or wrong. A team, Hermione! When a politician grows up, he drags his team with him. And just as an official can be sure of his men, so they can be sure of their rear. Confident that they will not be left behind, but will be pulled along. But for this to happen, everyone must work with full commitment: both the leader and the subordinates!

- So, do I understand correctly," Hermione began, "you, as a Crown Lord, will have a place in the House of Lords?

- Yes, Hermione. And this place at the same time gives a way to a high position in the government up to the minister. Plus, don't forget that I have a very respectable business. Even now, my personal fortune, excluding my father's capital, makes me a multi-millionaire. And in the future, I'll be making billions. And you need people everywhere. Stay close to me, I don't ask for much, just loyalty. And for that, I'll give you a lot. Do you want to be an assistant minister or a director of a multinational corporation? Hermione, it's in your hands. This is the pinnacle, not a wizarding reservation.

The Hogwarts Express, as is customary, arrived at Hogsmeade station in the late afternoon. All the children who had arrived from their holidays made their way to the castle in carriages that moved at their own pace. Dinner had started as soon as they arrived, so the children gathered around the tables of their faculties.

Richard noticed out of the corner of his eye that Dumbledore looked at him with intense disapproval, somehow unkindly, with a squint. It was the way people usually looked at a poisonous and dangerous animal, wondering whether to kill it or not, lest they be poisoned.

All good cheer left young Grosvenor. He realised that Dumbledore knew who had caused the three wizards to get what they deserved.

The next day classes started somehow unexpectedly, though, as they always did after the holidays.

At lunchtime, when Richard had finished eating, Harry Potter approached him from the Gryffindor table.

- Hello, Richie. Got a minute to spare?

- Afternoon, Harry. Of course I have a spare moment for a friend.

Ritchie stood up from his desk and turned to a fellow student:

- Justin, Harry and I are going for a walk. I might be late for History of Magic.

- No problem, Richie," Justin waved his hand nonchalantly.

On the way out of the Great Hall, Potter said with a hint of envy:

- This is cool! In my department, if you say you want to skip class, they'll give you a hard time! What do you mean, we'll lose points ...

- We don't care about grades," Richard replied. - Friendship and hard work come first, everything else is irrelevant. How was your holiday?

- Uncle Scott was busy, so I had to stay at Hogwarts," Harry said sadly. - Ron, when he found out I was staying at the castle, decided to keep me company. And his brothers stayed with him, so it wasn't boring. Um, Richie, here's the thing.

- Don't drag it out, I can skip History of Magic at the most, I want to be in Potions more than I want to be in detention.

Potter grinned and replied:

- I understand. I wouldn't want to be in Snape's tutorials myself. Anyway, Richie, I got a strange present for Christmas - an invisibility cloak. At first I thought it was from you, until Darth Vader brought me your version of a ninja costume with invisibility activated.

- Harry, I want details.

Harry Potter pulled a silver fabric out of his bag, light, almost airy, taking up very little space. It was unlike any of the invisibility mantles Richard had seen before. It was a masterpiece, like an intergalactic starship against a modern space rocket.

After examining the mantle, Richie returned it to its owner, who hurriedly put it back in his bag.

- There was a note," Potter continued, "that said it was my father's mantle, which my father had given to the donor for safekeeping shortly before he died. And now he was returning the mantle to me.

- Wow! - Richard was taken aback and lost his step. - Harry, do you have any idea what this means?

- What?

- This man... wizard... He was indirectly involved in your parents' deaths. Maybe not indirectly.

Harry frowned and scowled, he slumped his shoulders, rubbed the scar on his forehead with his index finger and looked at Richard carefully.

- What makes you think that? - He asked.

- Imagine that time. There's a group of terrorists running rampant among the wizards. Your parents, as I understand it, were at risk, as your mum was a muggle-born wizard. And in these harsh times, when any means to save the family is worth its weight in diamonds, your father gives such a unique invisibility cloak to an unknown person.

- Unique?

- Yes, Harry. It's perfection itself. It's the finest quality invisibility cloak I've ever seen. It could have saved your parents' lives.

Harry Potter clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned white. The boy's face twisted with rage. He hissed softly:

- 'Who do you think that creep is, Richie?

- I've got one guess....

- Who?! - Potter hissed angrily.

- Don't you have a clue yourself? - Richard raised his right eyebrow.

- Dumbledore?! - Harry whispered quietly.

Richard nodded and pronounced:

- There's no proof, but all circumstantial evidence points to it.

- You old bearded fuck," Potter hissed with unbelievable rage. - I'm going to kill him...

Richie put his palm over Harry's mouth, leaned over his ear and whispered:

- 'Shh. Shh, Harry. Not here. In fact, get in the habit of not saying threats out loud, or you'll end up in jail. We need proof. What if we're wrong?

Harry dropped Richard's palm from his mouth. His nostrils flared angrily and his eyes were bloodshot.

- What proof? - Potter asked in a whistling whisper. - Whenever something bad happens in my life, I can always see Dumbledore's mark. He's a creep, a psycho, a dictator....

- A madman with a lot of twists and turns, but he holds important positions. He's a politician," Richard said. - They're the kind of people who usually work their way up to power. They are extremely dangerous. I can tell that even from myself. I'm still just a larva of a politician, but I don't put my finger in my mouth either. So we'll work something out, Harry. We'll figure it out. But don't get too excited. Revenge is a dish to be served cold.