Getting up from the table, I went to one of the phones in the hallway. I dialed Hermione's number and waited for an answer - it was Hermione who answered the phone.

"Hi, Mione. I want to talk about nothing, but there are more important things to talk about." ​​

"Max, you as always - just business. But if you suddenly wonder, then I'm fine, and my parents and I are having a great time."

The giggles in her voice were more distinct than ever.

"I talked to my relatives about moving. I would even say evacuation."

"Already? I haven't even had a chance to bring it up. I really don't want to spoil their wonderful mood from our meeting."

"Be sure to bring it up. They will also need to move somewhere. You-Know-Who is no joke. Merlin knows what goes through his head."

"Tomorrow. Today everything is too ... Good."

"Agreed, Mione. I'll be busy in the near future, and you may not be able to get through. So use the owl. If there is something important or I just get bored, I'll let you know."

"No romance."

"I can write beautiful letters and send them by regular mail. There will be romance - expect a letter, and there will be, "I am writing to you, dear Hermione, this letter by the light of an oil lantern. The wonderful scent of old folios fills with fond memories of our gatherings in the library. For the third day in London, rain has been knocking on the rooftops without interruption, and an elderly neighbor, Bertha, has been coughing for the second day. Most likely, she got sick."

Hermione laughed softly.

"You should also send a letter by mail carriage. That would be great."

"I will."

"Okay, Max. Mom wants me to help with something in the kitchen. I hope it's not cutting vegetables..."

"You don't like vegetables?"

"I don't like cutting them."

***

The morning of the first full day of vacation traditionally began with sun bunnies that persistently and relentlessly, as if by magic, tried to shine right into my eye. This is annoying. But now that I'm awake, I won't go back to sleep, and I can't be lazy.

Warm-up, exercise, jog to the open sports ground. Working with my own weight and maximum weakening through hemomancy for greater effect - this is exhausting and distracting from various thoughts. I had to take off my T-shirt, staying only in an undershirt and wide black pants in the manner of army ones. I once again noticed that properly sewn, they give just incredible freedom of movement, but they don't look like a bag either.

"Whoa, man!" a voice came from the side, and I jumped off the horizontal bar.

Two blond guys in their early twenties, in athletic uniforms and clearly also after a run. They stood next to me and looked at me intently.

"How did you manage to build such muscles? How old are you?" the one on the right asked. "My name is Tom, by the way."

The guy held out his hand, and I immediately shook it. Not a wizard.

"And I'm James, you can call me J.D., last name there."

Shook the other guy's hand.

"Max."

"Yeah... So?"

"Well, I'm fifteen soon. It's just that I've been practicing every day since I was eleven. What? Is it so noticeable?"

"It is! I've only seen this in films about super fighters!" admired Tom.

"I'm not that big..." I shrugged.

"Yeah, well, not a bodybuilder. What's your diet?"

"I eat everything I can reach."

"Daaaamn... I bet all the girls are yours?"

I smiled.

"I don't think they care. Only guys ask, 'How do you train?'"

After laughing at the silly joke, the guys were about to leave.

"Okay, Max. You're not from around here, by the way?"

"I'm local, just in a private school almost all year round."

"Ahhhh, I see. Tough. I went to such a school," James nodded. "Creepy and boring. And strict. And here it's even..." he took a deep demonstrative breath. "It's even easier to breathe. We will be glad to see you here more often. We have a physical development club here. We share tips and experiences. Maybe you can tell us something or learn something new."

"When I'll have free time. Even on vacation, I'm busy."

In general, I found out where the local bodybuilders are located, from jocks to professional athletes. What for? I have no idea. They hadn't even seen the scars on the right side of my torso yet. Although... my shoulder was also hurt, and Tom seemed to cast a couple of interested glances at those scars but didn't say anything. Culture and upbringing.