After saying goodbye to the Macmillan family, Alan wandered around Diagon Alley for a while and, having bought some more potion ingredients, returned home.
Two days later.
Slowly opening his eyes from the pleasant scent that hung in the air, he looked thoughtfully at the tray lying on the table, with a cup of coffee and some pastries.
"These elves are strange creatures, though it's not for me to say..." Alan pulled his cup towards him and took a sip, then rose from the bed. Hmm... am I imagining something, or am I forgetting something...? He took another sip and shrugged, dismissing the thought. If I can't remember, it's probably not that important.
After breakfast, he went down to the first floor and caught a glimpse of the basement, and at that very moment it dawned on him.
Exactly! Alan slammed his fist into his palm, quickly opening the door and, going downstairs, saw Tobias's body lying in a pool of dried blood. Yeah, if I'd stayed a couple of hours, he definitely would have died. He quickly pulled a potion from his pouch and began pouring it down Tobias's throat, using magic to help him absorb it.
At the same moment, the wounds on the man's forehead began to heal, his fingers, twisted into an unnatural position and crushed by the hammer, also began to recover, and the previously unhealthy pallor began to disappear.
I didn't think a simple general-restoration potion would work so well, although that's most likely because he's a Muggle. I should probably look for a mage as a test subject later... Nodding to himself, he looked at Tobias's face. His eyes flickered but remained closed, even though he'd already regained consciousness. Without holding back, Alan delivered a hard slap, sending the man's body crashing into the wall with a loud, dull thud. "Are you awake, or should I repeat?"
"W-woke up!" the Muggle exclaimed, jumping up convulsively, horror in his eyes, trembling as if he had seen a real demon.
"Don't be afraid, I'm not going to torture you or kill you today. I have a job for you. If you do it, I'll let you go."
Hearing Alan's words, the man beamed and nodded like a dummy.
"Anything you want!"
"Great, I'll give you two days to sell this house at the average price. If you try to cheat me, I'll torture and kill you, and everything you went through earlier will seem like a walk in the park. Understand?"
"And where will I live…?"
"Should I care?" Alan drawled, his gaze narrowing dangerously, raising his palm and pointing a finger at the pale Tobias. "If I hear one more word from you, I'll kill you. Go back to work... and I also don't recommend contacting the police or any other such agencies: they won't help, because I'll get you anyway. Don't think that because you could bully a weakened sorceress, such games will work on me. Go, your time is running out, and take note: the sooner you sell this house, the sooner I'll be gone."
And without saying anything else, Alan left the basement, continuing to work on the potions...
The very next day, while processing a recipe from his world, Tobias walked into the living room with a rather thick bag in his hands.
"I-I sold it."
"Good boy, leave the money on the table and you can go," Alan waved him off listlessly without even looking at him, starting a new attempt at creating a potion.
He put the package on the table and, fearing that he might simply change his mind, the man left the room and, breaking into a quick walk, headed towards the front door.
Live while you can, you damn monster. I'll get my revenge on you yet. Do you think I don't know who to turn to to pacify you?! Bitch, you'll be begging for forgiveness while groveling at my feet! Tobias thought with a mad grin, already imagining how he would vent his rage on Alan.
Finally reaching the door, he flung it open and, carefully closing it behind him, ran at full speed toward the busiest street. After all, thanks to his life with the "witch," the man had learned many laws of the World of Magic, one of which was the prohibition of using magic in the presence of ordinary people who didn't know about magic. So he decided to protect himself even more if Snape changed his mind and decided to kill him.
And ten minutes later, finally finding himself among people, Tobias felt calmer. So, taking out a small business card with a phone number, he approached the phone booth and smiled.
"As soon as I report you, I'll get everything back..." He reached out with a trembling hand to the numbers, smiling with anticipation. "You're finished, I'll fucking... what...?" His finger froze. The man simply couldn't move, as if something had frozen his body. A moment later, his hand hung limp and he fell to his knees, hitting his forehead on the telephone. What's going on...? Why can't I move...? the man thought with horror. Could it really be him...? His head began to turn to the side, and he saw something that drained all color from his face and caused an animalistic terror to dance in his eyes.
Right on the bench sat Eileen... The same Eileen from the portrait, to whom he had been asking forgiveness for the last few days, his wife, whom he had drunkenly beaten to death... She looked straight at him with her cold, faded eyes, without a single emotion on her face...
"It's impossible… she… I did it myself…" the man's body was shaking, and his back was covered in cold sweat. He simply couldn't believe his eyes, because just ten meters away from him stood the one he had killed with his own hands. "No! This is that monster's work! I killed that creature, it can't be alive! IT CANNOT! IT CANNOT! IT CANNOT! NO…!" But as soon as she stood up and took the first step towards him, the man, as if "sobering up," hid against the wall opposite her. "Don't come any closer, witch! You're dead! Dead! DEAD! YOU'RE JUST AN ILLUSION SENT BY THAT BASTARD!" As soon as these words escaped his mouth, her steps quickened, the indifference disappeared from her face, and in its place came hatred mixed with rage, at the sight of which he trembled. Tobias was on the verge of losing consciousness, but he couldn't get over that brink and into the saving swoon, as if something was holding him back. "D-don't c-come any closer! Monster! I killed you! You're just an illusion! An illusion! You're not her! She's dead! Dead! Dead!!!"
A crowd of people gathered around the booth containing the screaming man, confused as to what was happening to him. They tried to open it and pull him out, but the lock was jammed. But seeing the horror on his face and the fact that he was confessing to some kind of murder while staring at empty space and pointing his finger, most thought he was simply crazy...
At the same time, Alan stood in the living room with a satisfied smile in front of the cauldron, having finally finished his potion.
Tobias... Tobias... you shouldn't have lied to me, I wanted to let you go... But he couldn't help but laugh. Oh... what a hypocrite I am, I would have killed him anyway, but quickly, and now you have to suffer, oh... I even wonder how quickly this phantom will progress to the second stage, when it can truly cause physical harm? It's still a good idea to use the Curse of Desolation and the Vengeful Phantom simultaneously; it's simply the perfect combination: the former gradually destroys the magical core and deprives one of control over the body, while the latter affects the psychic, destroying the mind, destroying all bright thoughts and absorbing the dark ones, growing stronger and ultimately killing its target. I never thought I'd ever use this... Alan thought with a smile, pouring the contents of the cauldron into two vials. Hmm... the effect turned out to be weaker than I thought. It's only capable of enhancing magical abilities by half. As for the duration... I should probably find myself a test subject or... test subjects I won't mind poisoning... The next moment, his eyes lit up, and a cold smile blossomed on his lips. I can't wait for the school year to start...
Alan did not linger long in this house. During the evening, he calmly collected all the things that were in any way connected with magic, and also got rid of all traces of magic, and the next day, in the morning, after breakfast, he was preparing to leave it.
But he didn't have time to do this. At the moment when Alan was about to go outside, someone started knocking on the door very persistently, as if they were intending to knock it down.
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
"Open the door! We know you're inside!" came a rough male voice, which made him frown, as he didn't remember inviting anyone in.
I even became curious about what they want.
As soon as he opened the door, two "suicide bombers" burst into the house—their actions couldn't be explained any other way. They walked past Alan as if they owned the place, pushing him aside, and began examining the house under the gaze of the slightly stunned wizard.
And yet, when Alan "came to his senses," he did not immediately burn them alive, thinking that they were the new owners of the house who had bought it, but after listening to their conversations about the approximate cost and who they could "palm off the house to," he realized that he was mistaken.
Ahem! Ahem! And who are you?" Alan decided to get their attention.
"And you're apparently a relative of that bastard? His son?" A two-meter tall, bald man in a white T-shirt and dark pants approached him.
"Yes, why?" The man's burning gaze, wandering over his body, really didn't please Alan so much that he wanted to kill him right there on the spot, but he still held back, because this man was already dead to him: he would never leave this house again.
"Not bad, your dad owed us a pretty large sum of money and went crazy, and someone has to pay the debt back..."
"The house will cost a couple of thousand at most, but that's definitely not enough," another dead man came down to them from the second floor.
"Well, kid, you're lucky, you can help your daddy pay off his debt, work for us for a couple of years and then you'll be free."
"To work?"
"I told you, you're lucky!" the suicide bomber said cheerfully, his eyes roving over Alan's body again and patting him on the shoulder in a fatherly manner. "You may not have the best looks, but we have plenty of 'friends' who like gentle boys like you. Rest assured, you'll quickly repay your father's debt."
"I see..." A cold smile appeared on Alan's face, and lights danced in his eyes. Last words...?