ᴅɪsᴘᴇʟ ᴍʏ ʙᴏʀᴇᴅᴏᴍ | ᴍᴀʀᴀᴅᴇᴜʀs' ᴇʀᴀ

Chapter 18: The Origin of Werewolves

France, Grenoble, police station

"Miss... Do you understand that this is classified information?"

"Boissier," Lily said gently. "Of course, officer. But understand me too! My brother's car was stolen a month ago. It's not that we need money so much," Lily smiled flirtatiously, "but it was a gift from our parents. And now he has to pretend that he lent the car to a friend. He can't admit that their gift was hijacked a week after his birthday!"

"Your brother should've watched his car more closely," policeman shook his head. "Why did you even think that the car, on which Goltz crashed, belonged to your family?"

"I watched the news. Those awful shots!" Lily sobbed. "But I recognized that Aston Martin! The latest model - won't mix it up with anything else."

"Miss Boissier," the man started to get annoyed, "Goltzs, judging by data, was respected and wealthy family. I think they could afford a car like that."

"People are different! One has a scar-face but the kindest soul. And the other has eyes of the angel and black-black soul!"

"So, what do you want from me, miss?" the officer sighed wearily.

"One little thing! Just check the license plates."

"If you give me yours, I'll check the information and tell you if it was your car or not."

Lily unwittingly bit her lip. She assumed that he wouldn't because of some kind of compassion open his soul and materials of police station for her, but would ask for the license of her car. The girl sighed and decided to go on. After all, she had a spare plan - risky, but not bad.

Putting a palm on the hand of a man, she smiled gently and politely said, "I remember only some numbers... If I see, I'll remember right away!"

Potion, which she prudently smeared her hands with, began to soak into skin of the policeman. His glance slightly clouded, becoming peaceful and benevolent.

"Yes, yes, of course. You forgot, well, it happens," the man slowly sank into a chair and began to turn over the sheets mechanically.

Lily, not removing her hand, leaned down cautiously, looking over his shoulder, and whispered in his ear, " What if someone sees that you're showing me classified information? Do you want me to do it myself? Like if you went out for coffee and accidentally left the data on the table."

The potion was great. Of course, none other but Severus Snape made it. In addition, he also prepared an antidote for Evans, so that the potion wouldn't affect her. The Slytherin promised that as soon as the effect of mixture is over, the victim will forget about all that has happened.

"All that will remain in his memory is hysterical rich girl who left with nothing," Lily thought to herself.

The policeman, submitting to unobtrusive whisper of the guest, slowly left the office, and the girl immediately put her wand out of her pocket.

Having looked through the data, Lily stealthily fished a silver thread-thought from her temple and dropped it into a vile prepared beforehand. Then the girl quickly jumped from the table, closing all the reports and stuffing them into the drawer, and slipped out the door.

"Mission accomplished," she sighed with relief, unaware that at that very moment one wizard in a black robe moved away from the magic mirror*, rubbing his hands fairly.

* This refers to magical analogue of modern video surveillance devices.

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