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26.66% Naruto. Clones vs Wizards / Chapter 3: 3. Saving Private Freddie

Chapter 3: 3. Saving Private Freddie

Freddie Mercury, born Farokkh Bulsara, born rock singer and composer, was bored and suffered from immunodeficiency virus.

His life faded, she lost her bright colors. Nothing pleased him like before.

But he had no regrets, no regrets about anything.

He was used to being bored, lonely, and uncomfortable in his private house.

Freddie didn't hear the doorbell. And if he had, he wouldn't have come down to open the doors for another journalist or fan.

He was sitting on the second floor, in a room with a snow-white piano and something rubbing on the keys.

Suddenly, he felt someone's presence. Freddie turned around.

He wasn't alone. A boy was standing next to him.

A strange boy. A shaggy fan of John Lennon. His glasses hinted at that fact. But it was the boy's eyes that drew the most attention. Bright blue, big eyes. And the expression in them was strange, frightening, no! Not frightening, but calling to be careful and serious with the wearer of this piercing look of the eyes of no child.

"Who are you," Freddie asked.

"I am your fae," said the boy seriously.

Mercury didn't understand anything, he didn't appreciate the joke.

"You're too weird for a fairy."

"And you're too weird for Freddie the Queen."

"It's a kind of magic!" suddenly the boy sang. "A brilliant song," he smiled with a clean and sincere smile. "It's a magic album. And a magical movie."

Freddie smiled back, remembering the time he was working on that album. They did a great job then. Roger wrote a great hit, that's not to be denied.

"And yet, how did you get in? Was the door open there?" The musician decided to clarify.

"Magic, Freddie, it's magic," answered the boy seriously.

Then he looked carefully into the singer's eyes and asked a strange question:

"Do you want to live, Freddie?"

"Everybody wants to live, boy," answered Freddie with a sad suicide bomber smile.

"I'm actually against everything so... extravagant. But you sing too good songs. I like to listen to music."

The boy pulled a wand out of the sleeve of his shirt and started to make some loops in the air while he mumbled a little Latin.

Freddie didn't understand anything, all he had to do was smile. He'd seen a lot of freaks and other jerks in his life.

When the boy finished his tricks, he thought about it.

"What? The trick didn't work? "Abracadabra" doesn't come out," laughed the musician quietly.

"That's the thing that comes out quite well. But you're a weird squib. Although you're all weird from India, you have a special magic."

Now Mercury is choking on his emotions. The boy was frightened by his seriousness, he wasn't kidding. And then what will he do? Does he get the gun? Will he get a knife?

"All right, Freddie, I've got a couple of recipes. Cancer can be crushed. I hope your AIDS can be cured, too."

"Don't joke about it, boy," said the singer sadly.

"No jokes, Freddie, no jokes. It's important to me that you can swear to secrecy. Everything will stay between us."

Freddie wanted to be viciously intolerant and start yelling at this nasty, disrespectful, sassy boy bully for whom nothing is sacred. Freddie opened his mouth and... choked on the scream.

Because the boy is gone! The boy put a dark cloak on himself and disappeared!

And Freddie Mercury couldn't move. He suddenly felt sick, had a headache. Until tonight, the musician had failed in bed.

And in the evening, he saw a boy he didn't know again.

"Good evening, Freddie! I needed your blood. Your blood will make the potion much stronger. The effect is important! The effect, Freddie. You can never neglect the art of potioning! Stupid waving a wand isn't all. Not everything in the high art of magic, my friend the musician."

Freddie didn't have time to get angry, he didn't have time to react. The boy took out the wand again and drew something in the air. Then he smiled:

"Well, it's nothing at all. It's not worth mentioning, Freddie."

Then the boy pointed the wand at the singer and gave out a few phrases in Latin.

Freddie felt healthy! The headache was gone. Even bodily disorders seemed to hide, did not feel annoying twitches and seizures.

The boy gave the musician a knife and a strange little glass vial:

"Do it. Freddie. Seven drops of your blood. Dare you, Queen! You're a tough guy. And one more thing, Freddie. You owe me a song, Freddie. Only rats reproduce for a fee."

"What's your name, boy? How did you take away my pain? It's some kind of magic. How did you do it? It's not like that! How the hell did you come into my house again! Who the hell are you," gave a whole series of questions and shouts from stunned Mercury.

"The fae is yours. But you'll know my name after the contract is signed."

"What a contract, goddamn you!"

And suddenly Freddie froze. He was strangely religious. Now, at this moment, he suddenly understood! The contract! There's no reason for that! Does it look familiar?

"Do you want my soul? I won't sign it, I'd rather die," mumbled the musician.

"Why do I need your soul? I don't want your soul," answered the boy quite calmly and quite honestly and objected.

And then he sat on the edge of the bed and told the musician about some details of their world, the real and magical.

And Mercury believed. He didn't even have to show extra tricks. He saw a couple of tricks this afternoon and couldn't forget.

The musician with respect touched the parchment with the words of the contract. And the inscription made in ink inspired. Everything was serious, solid, and interesting, and honest.

"Freddie, this is no bloody joke," said the main wizard boy. "I don't give a shit about your Muggle gods. I can swear in front of everybody that I will "tell the truth, only the truth and nothing but the truth. And then I can lie if it's good for me. And you know very well, Freddie. No bloody god, no bloody Christ will punish me! Keep in mind, Freddie, with Magic, these things won't go away. If you tell anyone... Stop! If you tell anyone who didn't know about the world of magic about our meeting, about our business, you're dead. No kidding. You won't die on the scene, but you won't live a month, squib."

"The primary law of your world. "The Statute of Secrecy". I got it. I'm ready to sign! It's magic, boy."

The blue-eyed boy stretched out his quill to the singer and moved the inkpot on the table. Freddie carefully put out his signature. It seemed that every molecule of his sick body enjoyed the atmosphere of magic and magic in which he participated.

Then the boy signed himself on parchment and said:

"Now scratch yourself and put blood in the vial. The potion will be ready in the morning."

Freddie took a knife and froze.

"Can I cut my leg? I don't have to hurt my hands," asked the musician.

"Cut your ass, please. We need blood. Come on, hurry up. The master doesn't like waiting," said the boy.

Freddie put blood in a vial and asked:

"Expensive medicine?"

The boy smiled funny:

"Not very expensive. I'm still young, not much influence. The potion maker is a good specialist, but overpriced."

Then the boy vanished into thin air again. And Freddie was covered with fantasy and inspiration. Freddie stuck to the piano and played and sang more and more variations of melodies.

In the morning, Naruto invisibly entered the musician's house and froze at the hall door. He sat by the wall and listened. Sometimes the boy would listen to the melodies and whisper in delight: "Fucking genius! It's amazing what a genius he is! How can I brainwash him from homosexuality? Well, it's a risk. But I'd rather wait. In three years, I can make some great brain marks. And now I can screw it up. Although... where am I going? It's not my problem. He wants to kiss mustached men, let him lick mustached men. The important thing is, he'll be protected now. And he promised to write a song about a girl with pink hair! Okay, time to treat him."

Freddie wasn't surprised to see the boy. The musician had his first drink of the potion. And he went to bed. He cried like a child and wouldn't fall asleep from restless thoughts, but the little wizard calmed him down with a sleep spell.

A few days later, the boy made a diagnosis and bowed his head to his shoulder. To the demanding look of the musician, he answered honestly:

"I think we have succeeded. There are changes. For the better. And your aura has been cleaned. Drink the whole course, Freddie."

"The potion is a necessity! I feel great, well, I mean, it feels completely different. Say it. Can I ever spell like you?"

"No, Mercury. It's not going to work. You're a squib! Simple Potioning is your top. Only why would you do that? You're already a wizard, Freddie. Your songs are magic. On the Beatles and Rolling level. You're very good."

And then a little friend killed Freddie by talking about important things that made the musician finally believe in miracles.

"Let's do the calculations, Mr. Mercury. Phoenix tears have gone up in price. And a unicorn horn isn't bought for a pound of dog shit. Please read and issue a check. I can take cash, too."

"You little fool! What's the problem? How much is it? I'll pay for it," laughed the musician.

He wasn't impressed with the amount. But it was from that moment on that Freddie finally and irrevocably believed in magic, in the magical world next door, and in meeting an amazing young wizard who had left but promised to return.

"You promised me a concert pass, I'll see you later, Freddie!"

The clone smiled. That funny Freddie was a great musician. But Muggle musicians loved Sex, Drugs and Rock and Roll. The clone liked rock and roll. He wasn't interested in sex. The clone was interested in the benefits to the Uzumaki family.

"Oh, great. I'll find out who's giving you the drugs! I'll take care of you, Freddie."

*

The world of Muggles was funny and full of money! Easy money! Naruto knew he had to hide from the Muggles. But why give up on joy? Why hide from movies, from music, from ramen? There's no telling where the Hidden House from the Ministry will be built. The Muggle world holds many secrets.

Old sensei Domenicus Frost said things were simpler at the beginning of the century. He had no objection to the boy's interest in the Muggle world. The old man taught Naruto two simple spells. It was the basis of the wizard's safety in the Muggle world. Confundus and Obliviate.

Naruto first tested his powers on drug dealers. He was good at spells. In a company with two clones, he decided to play a funny game. He didn't like drug dealers. Naruto saw one of those bastards and went up to him.

"Confundus, bastard!"

Adding the word "bastard" clearly gave a stronger result, almost like adding the word "Maxima".

"Do you know why the cops are so evil? It's because no one sells them the drug!"

Naruto spoke to the dealer in a trusting voice in his back.

"Can you imagine, you go to the cops' office and sell them a drug? They'll buy everything from you at double price and be happy. Hurry up, or they'll run out of shift and go home!"

The drug dealer took off and walked down the street.

Naruto laughed.

"Naruto baka," said Sakura. "You could have taken the money and drugs."

"I don't want drugs," said the blond.

"Pft, you idiot. You have to save up a lot of drugs and sell a lot of drugs to the villains. First get the money and then kill the drug dealers," Sasuke explained in a calm and quiet voice.

"Sasuke Kun is so cool," put her hands on the breasts Sakura. "He got my idea."

"I understood too," said Naruto with a frown. "What shall we do?"

Sasuke pinched his eye and gave instructions.

"Take the image of a normal person. Create five clones. We'll find the drug dealers. Then we'll give you a target. You talk the bastards into giving up money and drugs. Get ready to run fast and hide. The clones will cover your escape. We're not afraid of death and wounds. Let's make money!"

*

For a while, two boys were making a mess of the streets of London. They camouflaged themselves well under their invisible cloaks. But Sakura didn't like the effect of their prank.

"One fool offered and the other baka agreed," got angry with Sakura. "Why do you do stupid things?"

"We make money," smiled Naruto.

"You're shaming yourself like a shinobi. Do you want money? Send a letter to the main villain. Demand to share the money with you. Make him your slave. He'll refuse. Then you can kill the villains. Sasuke. You want to improve, don't you? Shinobi is a stealthy death. Drugs and money are not the greatest value. The greatest value is life. Kill some of the villain's servants and threaten him with death. He will give any money."

"Sakura, you cool kunoichi! We must kill the villains. We don't have to negotiate with them. We're not drug dealers," agreed Sasuke.

"Sasuke, you're a Kun, but you're not a kunoichi! How are you going to kill villains?"

"I'm going to take the image of a friend and get close. One kunai strike and the villain are dead."

"The villain is dead. And what will become of you? You'll walk up to the enemy openly. And one day you won't have time to dispel. You'll be dead. And what will Naruto get?"

Sasuke and Naruto have looked over. Naruto thought for the first time that no clone had ever been killed. And how will he feel when a clone transfers his death to him?

Sakura threw a finger at Naruto.

"You must understand that."

"How?"

"I can kill Sasuke now. And you'll start to understand what death is," a kunai appeared in Sakura's hand.

Sasuke crossed his arms on his chest and turned away. Naruto frowned on his eyebrows.

"You're not going to do that. She is right, Sasuke. But you and I will deal with it!"

Sakura took out the kunai and sighed.

"Boys. Stupid boys. Stealth and death, that's the way of development, that's the future. Sasuke, find a way to kill the Muggle invisibly!"

Sasuke's thinking. Naruto scratched his head and suggested an option.

"Poison!"

"Okay. Naruto! You remembered what they taught you at the Academy. One day you will learn to kill your enemies with the hands of other enemies."

"Naruto. She is right. Drugs are such crap that you can't touch them. We need to find the poison."


CREATORS' THOUGHTS
Tom_Sky Tom_Sky

With eternal recognition and love for the legacy of the great Creator of rock music, I would not dare to continue this theme.

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