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Records from the late eighteenth century and earlier were becoming harder and less enjoyable to read. There was more and more ideological thinking and propaganda of all kinds. It seemed as if the authors were trying to convince themselves of something... And yet, the family motto, "Toujours Pur," at the beginning of these entries had a truly noble meaning.
However, a sense of superiority is necessary, just vital. If before the Statute, there were wizards and ordinary people, now it is necessary somehow to justify everything that is happening. That's where Salazar Slytherin's old thoughts about "Purity of Blood" came out of all the cracks. All this was flavored with not the best but tolerant attitude to the rare Muggle-borns, who in the eyes of hereditary wizards are strangers, rootless, without traditions and ancestral memory, and completely illiterate... In general, a new system was formed to find out "who has the longest" and the justification for isolation: "we have fenced off the dirty Muggles!" And so, in such an environment, in a closed society, wizards began a new fuss about blood purity. They distorted everything. History, theories, manuscripts. Hidden meanings were sought between the lines where none existed. And, of course, wizards began to build their own internal hierarchy, based not on respect, as before, but on contempt and arrogance.
This pustule took a long time to mature and burst for the first time in the early twentieth century, pouring out into the outside world the rot in the form of Grindelwald. With his ideas, he stirred up other such pustules and nearly engulfed the whole world in the fires of World War II. Relatively untouched were the magical communities of continental Americas, China, Japan, and the Middle East, if my memory of events in the outside world is correct.
No sooner had the boom of war subsided when Voldemort entered the scene with about the same ideas, multiplied by mental deviations and a manic obsession to exterminate Muggles and "Mudbloods."
It took three days to read and study these materials. Of course, the conclusions based on these records are rather arbitrary because there is only the point of view of members of one family, and it may be, and certainly is, purely subjective. But despite this, some intangible understanding is deposited in my head. An understanding of something that I cannot yet describe in words and to which I cannot give a definition. But this "something" is definitely there. A thread to what Black is supposed to be. Not as it was after the establishment of the Statute, but before it.
As I have already noticed, financial issues were brought in full order without me - shares in enterprises, investments, and so on. About a third of the Blacks' cash flow is controlled by goblins. This, judging by the papers, is a rather profitable decision. Over the long years of self-isolation, the wizards of England and other countries more than once crossed each other's path and, so to speak, "shit at the neighbor's door." Such personal and sometimes family hostility and conflicts complicate financial relations.
On the other hand, Goblins don't give a damn about wizards' relationships with each other, and they make deals based on mutual benefit. For example, if some Longbottoms find it profitable to sell or buy something from Lestrange, then despite any disagreements, goblins will draw up just such a contract. To the mutual benefit of all parties. It's a pity not many people take advantage of Gringotts' services. Perhaps, by the way, for this reason, goblins do not sympathize with individual families or wizards - reputation. Even if you do something in secret, this secret will come up sooner or later, and the goblins will lose trust, and with it, tangible financial investments.
Sometimes Kreacher would let in the Pirate, my and Knight's owl, always disheveled and insolent. A couple of times, the Knights wrote me, wondering how I was doing. On the third day, they said that by September, all issues would be resolved and settled, and they would go to the United States for at least a couple of years. John instructed me to take care of the means of communication because if their safety is required for my peace of mind, then for their peace of mind in such an ambiguous situation in the country - communication with me and the ability to find out if everything is in order.
Hermione wrote a couple of times, sending letters with some clearly service owl. She complained about the complete unwillingness of her parents to take the situation seriously. The second such letter came when I was sitting imposingly in Orion's chair, now mine, and thinking about a plan of action. But I could not think of a plan at all - the lack of vision of the overall picture affected.
Putting aside the girl's letter, fed the owl with cookies and a mouse, which Kreacher had found somewhere, I quickly wrote the answer: "I'll be right there."
"Take it to Hermione Granger. Here's a coin," I slipped the letter into the owl's paw and put the sickle in a special pouch. "Hurry up, beauty."
"Hoo!" the owl hooted and flew out the window, which immediately closed itself.
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