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I looked at Lady Greengrass for a moment, waved my hand, and, as Catherine appeared next to me, said:

"The bill."

A neat check appeared as if by magic in the waitress's hands, and taking it in my hands, immediately, as if holding the right amount and a couple of galleons on top, I laid them out on the table. I buttoned the button of my jacket, hinting that I was going to leave.

"I heard you, "Lady" Greengrass," I said, indicating by intonation the real status of my interlocutor, began to get up from the table, and as luck would have it, a disgruntled Malfoy moved toward us from his table. Daphne tried to stop him, but she was stopped by Nott. Just like some kind of melodrama.

"Won't you even try to convince me?" asked Delphine, a little surprised.

"Then I'll simply learn everything myself. On my own experience," leaving the table, I turned my head slightly in the direction of the approaching Malfoy. "Getting scars isn't new to me. But whether anyone would dare to apprentice with a necromancer while studying witch medicine, transfiguration, and dark magic is an open question, as is the "grandmaster. You're not the only one gathering information."

These disciplines, except necromancy, of course, are indeed part of the foundation of combat magic. It was at this moment that Malfoy approached, full of irritation and contempt in his eyes.

"Look at that!" he declared theatrically, drawing the attention of the few visitors. "Now they're letting all sorts of trash like mud-bloods in here, too."

"Don't disgrace yourself, Malfoy. Even the sixth Weasley isn't that poor of a mind."

Instantly flared up, Draco almost went splotchy with indignation.

"How dare you talk to the Lord like that!" hissed Malfoy defiantly, holding out his hand with the ring.

"You are such a Lord as from dragon droppings - the core of the wand. I am already preparing a memorial speech for your House, for it won't last long with a leader like that."

"You!" he seemed to remember his last attempt to punish me with magic, so he took his hand off his wand but decided to get back at my companion verbally since he was watching her almost from behind. Either Malfoy is a fool, or he rarely saw Lady Greengrass, or not in such an image. "You probably have led another mudblood like yourself..."

His comrades were already approaching, for the conflict was just about to break out, and here they were, so beautiful, coming to the rescue. Except...

"And when did Malfoy's heir become Lord?" turned to us, Delphine, and Draco's friends who approached, for some reason, turned very pale. As well as Malfoy himself.

I couldn't help but add fuel to the fire:

"That's what I'm talking about. Tell me, Draco, are you really such an idiot, or are you just pretending? Let me give you a hint: you need to apologize profoundly to the offended lady. Ah, where are my manners! I'm supposed to challenge you to a duel, Lord Malfoy."

Draco pulled himself together almost immediately. A couple of the establishment staff were already approaching us.

"That's right. Lord Malfoy!" Draco chucked his chin up. "That would be a lot of honor."

"Well, we can do this the easy way," I slapped the arrogant idiot in the face without a swing, but very quickly. The only difference between the slap and the punch was the open palm. Malfoy literally flipped over, crashing into the floor with three teeth bouncing merrily aside. No one had expected such an outcome and the actors froze, staring in amazement at the blood-splattered, wailing boy.

Lady Greengrass's quiet, tinkling laughter brought everyone to their senses. The lady herself rose from the table and stood at my right hand. The children were torn between bowing apologetically for the lady and trying to get Malfoy back upright, and Daphne was looking at Delphine with eyes full of hopelessness.

The staff has already gathered, the typical, "What's wrong, what's wrong," began. But there was no further escalation of the conflict.

"It's like being back at Hogwarts," Lady Greengrass looked around at everyone with a smile and sent the staff away with some surprisingly commanding gesture. And it worked. "Let us consider that the conflict is over, and the insult of misunderstanding quite paid in the best tradition. With blood. Dismissed."

The children bowed and returned to their table, holding the suffering Malfoy.

"You've got some nerve, 'Mr. Knight,'" a smiling Delphine turned to me. "I like that. I was curious to see what kind of person you are, and in a way, you have satisfied my curiosity. I propose to proceed as follows. One month. For one month, I'll do your training. If you can stand it, I will take you on as an apprentice."

"And Hogwarts?"

"You're not even considering your failure?"

"Absolutely."

"Commendable, but shortsighted. If you fail, you will owe me a favor. In reasonable limits, of course. And about Hogwarts, I'll think of something."

"I think that's perfectly acceptable," I nodded.

"Then, shall we go back to the table and sign the contract for a month? I happen to have copies with me."

We drew up this very contract for half an hour, where every conceivable and unthinkable nuance was described. To our mutual benefit, of course. As a result, from tomorrow and for a month, Delphine would be considered a kind of tutor. We agreed to meet tomorrow morning at nine o'clock at Fortescue's Café, and from there we would go to the place to practice. I was told to take "everything for life" and plenty of loose, athletic clothes that I didn't feel sorry for. After signing the documents with a bloody pen and picking up our copies, we left Avalon. Delphine apparated freely away, and I had to drag my own feet.