After dinner, there was still a little time before curfew to wander around the school and do all sorts of nonsense. So I headed to the library, wishing to finish one interesting little book. I walked not fast, at a leisurely pace, nodding to rare students encountered on the way, and receiving the same nods in response. It was quite unexpected to hear approaching from the side corridor I was approaching, fast steps of a clearly very hurrying person.
"'Mione!" I called out to my sister, who had just steered out from around the corner, carrying a couple of books, pressing them to her chest.
"Huh?" she turned sharply and stopped, shaking a mop of thick unruly hair. "Hector? Hi."
I walked up to her and looked questioningly at the books in her hands.
"Hurrying to the library?"
"Yes. Didn't manage to return a few books. Wouldn't want to get on the list of unreliable readers."
"Madam Pince has one of those too?"
"Of course! How else."
"Well, you never know..."
"Far from every student treats books with due respect. Some need an eye kept on them, or else—goodbye book."
"I see..."
There was no one in the corridor except us, and I couldn't help but notice more hurried steps, but from the other side. Of course, I was a little surprised that Daphne came out from around the corner, pressing a couple of books to her chest...
"Greengrass," I nodded to the girl, who at the sight of us changed her hurried step to a calmer one, with dignity.
"Granger," the brunette nodded.
"Greengrass," my sister repeated the nod.
Daphne shifted her gaze to her.
"Granger," she nodded.
"Heh," I couldn't suppress a chuckle.
"What is it?" asked Daphne, standing next to us.
"At this moment, somewhere, one Snape is rolling his eyes to the ceiling."
"Professor Snape," Hermione corrected me.
"Yes, exactly Snape," I nodded.
I wanted to continue the conversation, or suggest going to the library already, but heard again... No, not steps—the guys were talking much louder than they were walking.
"...can't believe it..." Ron was loudly indignant, for the whole castle to hear, if the voice was to be believed. "And how does Dumbledore know everything?.."
"Dumbledore said that your Scabbers wasn't Scabbers at all, but an Animagus."
"And I fed him sweets too. What a treacherous rat! After all, he also... your parents..."
"Yes, I understood..."
The voices were approaching, and I wanted to hear the continuation. Willing to bet that at the sight of us, the guys will fall silent. Looking around, I spotted a niche with knight's armor. There was a lot of space there, so I pulled the girls by their robes into this niche.
"Shh," I asked, simultaneously using neutral energy to form a field of eye diversion.
Yes, there was a lot of space, but not enough to observe respect for personal space—we stood close to each other.
"You know, Ron," Harry and Ron came out from around the corner, continuing to speak loudly.
"What, mate?"
"You should apologize. After all, Crookshanks didn't eat the rat. I don't understand how it happened that it was Pettigrew who betrayed my parents to Voldemort, and everyone thought it was Black? And Sirius is also my godfather... And I hated him so much, having learned these false rumors."
"Apologize? Right!" Ron stopped, slapping his fist into his palm.
Harry stopped too, turning to his friend.
"As soon as I see Crookshanks—I'll definitely apologize to him!"
They walked along the corridor again, going somewhere deeper.
"I, actually," Potter's fading voice reached us, "meant something else..."
When the steps died down, the girls and I came out of hiding.
"'Mione..."
"Yes?"
"I, of course, don't mean anything like that... But... Are you sure you need such a friend? He's dumb as a cork."
"This is all, of course, cute," Daphne pressed the books tighter to her chest. "But I wasn't going for a walk."
"Ron is good," Hermione stated as if it were the last argument. "He just doesn't understand that..."
"Says?" Daphne smirked with a hint of arrogance, and looked at me. "Remember what I said? Let's pretend we don't communicate at all."
"No problem, forward, to the library."
We reached the abode of knowledge without any problems and unwanted fellow travelers. The girls returned the books and quickly scattered who knows where, and I stayed to finish reading the book. Read until Madam Pince kicked me out. Only she kicked me out exactly at the moment of curfew, so I had to return somewhat... illegally. Since I didn't know specific reliable spells for eye diversion, invisibility, and other camouflage, I simply wrapped myself in neutral energy, simultaneously visualizing the necessary effects and embodying them into reality with will.
Inadvertently, but checked the operability of my method on one of the most sensitive creatures in the castle—the caretaker's cat. Mrs. Norris surprised with her sensitivity to everything around, and many stories circulated about this. Surely she had Kneazles in her ancestors—intelligent magical cats of larger dimensions and with slightly different body proportions.
In the end, I reached the House common room without any problems, knocked on the barrel lid in the required rhythm, and entered the common room. Bypassing the "cozy" party of senior years—and the seventh years were here in full force, by the way—a sort of send-off—I hurried to the room where the guys and I talked a little about life and went to sleep.
And in the morning... In the morning there was a quick breakfast, an hour to pack, and now the students in a large crowd, dressed in whatever, loaded like mules, moved to the exit from the Hogwarts territory. To somehow regulate the process of transporting our beloved selves, teachers were present, dividing us into groups according to the principle "whoever I saw first, I put in the carriage." No one was particularly against it—they went in interest groups anyway.
No one was against the fact that rather terrible, and frankly unpleasant creatures were harnessed to the carriages. I read about them—Thestrals. Sort of emaciated to the point of absurdity and very large black horses with an elongated neck and a beak-like mouth. They also had leathery wings folding on their backs, the span of which in the open state reached from eight to eleven meters, according to the educational literature on Care. It is difficult to convey in words how impressive the animal was. Now they are with folded wings, but a couple of these, clearly from this herd, were spinning near Hagrid's hut, and one reared up, opening its wings—a powerful machine, despite all its boniness.
Hardly any of the guys saw them—it is inaccessible to them. To see Thestrals, one must know death. Whatever is hidden behind this wording, the probability that a school student at their age has "known death" is too small.
I rode in a carriage with Justin, Hannah, and Susan. In principle, there is room for a couple more people here, but they were occupied by luggage of trunks, suitcases, bundles, and other things. I alone, it seems, have a backpack—the ultimate solution to the problem, and the school trunk is practically empty. But, nevertheless, I dragged it with me too, because the rules require it. Hmm... Then it is quite possible that other guys also have something with expanded space. What is it called here? Undetectable Extension Charm?
We reached the Hogsmeade platform quite quickly, although we were shaken a little on the bumps. I will say without embellishment—a winter sleigh ride on a frozen, surely not without the help of magic, lake, was much more exciting and fun.
Quickly loading into the cars of the Hogwarts Express awaiting us, putting things under the seats or on the upper shelves, we, with the same composition, set about what Hufflepuff students are so fond of being reproached for—drinking tea and talking friendly about everything. When the train moved, Ernie and Zacharias joined us—the compartment is large, it allows. Funny—the entire Hufflepuff year is traveling in one compartment.
"It's strange, though," Justin pondered. "So few students in the year. And not only in ours."
"Yes, it would be great if there were more of us," Susan drawled dreamily. "So many new friends could be made."
Generally, the dreaminess and modesty of this redhead manifests itself only in such an atmosphere where everyone is their own. Otherwise, she can be quite collected, sharp, and smart, but it tires her quickly, and the girl instantly turns into an eternally "melting" and embarrassed, dreamy red creature. It even seems to me that if you pinch her cheeks in this state, she will sluggishly resist, spreading over the seat even more, saying: "Well, eno-o-ough."
The trip went quietly and without adventures. We grabbed a lot of different food from the Hogwarts kitchen, so we didn't have to starve on the road. A couple of times I left the compartment just to wander around the cars, but found nothing worthy of attention there, to my great regret—it's still hard to ride a train for so many hours, sit in one place and communicate even with a pleasant, but already boring company for the year. Even a monkey, as they say, needs variety. Of course, the elf from the shards would laugh, saying: "This variety of yours is nonsense. We walk through the forest on patrol sometimes for years, and nothing." But here, it seems to me, both physiology alien to human, and upbringing influence.
Ran into Draco. The blonde promised that next year I'm "done for," because he can cast magic on holidays and practice, and I—can't. Well, we'll see about that, you impudent snob larva; I'll strain myself, and I'll cast magic too... Did I immerse myself in the atmosphere of the school, accepting such a challenge? And why not? The point is not who threw this challenge, but in its very essence—casting magic on holidays.
We arrived in London around eight in the evening. It was summer outside, and it was still quite light, but the magical part of the station, platform "nine and three quarters," was lit by magic lamps—there are not so many sources of natural light here.
Turmoil, joyful students, no less joyful parents, luggage everywhere, bags, chaotic movements of people, pushing. In general, I don't like this. I just don't like it, and that's it. So I decided to wait a bit, standing next to the car and looking around. Not far from me stood a pair of wizards familiar to me. A platinum-haired stately man, proudly bearing the surname Malfoy and the "brightest" name Lucius, and his striking wife Narcissa, nee Black. I noticed them, they noticed me. Next to them stood an equally striking couple, only the lady's black hair was gathered in a bun under an elegant and clearly French hat resembling a leaf or feather with its sharp forms, and the blond man wore a dark blue old-fashioned suit, and not like Lucius—black as night.
Here Draco fell out of the car elegantly in a black two-piece suit, towing a school trunk. Behind him, almost pushing in the aisle, came the big guys Crabbe and Goyle, easily dragging their luggage. Daphne appeared next, clearly having problems with the damned school trunk. Well, I'm standing literally a step away.
"Need help?" I addressed the girl, who was looking with displeasure at the guys who had approached the elder Malfoys.
"Granger..." she shifted her gaze to me. "I would say that myself..."
Daphne pulled the trunk by the handle, but it only hit the aisle and even got stuck a little. There, in the car, Astoria, Daphne's blonde angel sister, looked at all this reproachfully, waiting for the passage to clear.
"Allow me," I took the handle of the trunk, tilted it slightly to the side, freeing it from a kind of trap and pulling it out of the car doorway, placing it on the platform floor. "Voila, no magic. Help with further transportation?"
"There are our parents," Daphne shifted her gaze to the couple standing next to the elder Malfoys.
At this moment Astoria descended from the car to the platform without problems, but her trunk was almost heavier than Daphne's, at least visually. The girl looked at me proudly.
"And I'll help you, young lady," I smiled, repeating my maneuver. "It seems to me that your parents will burn a hole in me with their gaze. Is it better for me to run away cowardly, or expose myself to the blow?"
"Hmph!" Astoria turned up her nose, although she looked quite grateful. A wild mixture of contradictions.
"You decide. I can't avoid an 'educational conversation'. Eh..." Daphne sighed, shifting a small and simple-looking dark blue handbag, matching the color of the dress and robe, more comfortably.
Shrugging, I went side by side with Daphne towards her parents, towing the girl's trunk behind my back—good thing they have wheels that appear when needed. Generally, they have quite a lot of useful charms, but everything is done clumsily, roughly and on the principle of mass production.
Draco, having already exchanged a couple of words with his parents, dismissed Crabbe and Goyle—they cheerfully retreated to some old man who patted both on the shoulder in a fatherly way.
Here Draco turns to the train, and his satisfied smile is replaced by bewilderment at the sight of me. How can one stop creating such small situations in which he expresses his emotions so vividly? Well, God himself commanded, although I consider myself supposedly an adult. Adult... Whose very basis of personality is a shard. Yeah... And who gives jewelry and takes a thirteen-year-old girl to a romantic cafe. Or maybe she's already fourteen—who knows? Adult, right, yeah.
"Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy," I smiled as soon as I approached this colorful company of wizards. "Immensely glad to see you in good health."
"Ah, Mr. Granger," Lucius smirked arrogantly, looking down. "You too, as I see, do not complain about health."
True, he won't be looking down for long, at least from the point of view of height—I'm growing. It seems right now the body has entered a period of active growth in height.
"Oh, come now, how could I, after all, potions from the hand of Master Snape used in the hospital wing can't put only the dead on their feet. But that's not certain."
"Hmm," Lucius chuckled and turned to the blonde and his companion, by the way, no less striking than Narcissa. "Allow me to introduce you, William, a classmate of my son and your eldest daughter. Hector Granger."
I bowed respectfully, following the manners of elves, albeit inadvertently.
"Mr. Granger," Lucius addressed me. "Before you are William and Sophia Greengrass."
"Very nice to meet you, sir, lady," I bowed respectfully again. "Given how talented your daughter is in magic, I'm afraid to assume how far the heights of your skills and knowledge extend."
"And it's not surprising," William smirked arrogantly, like Lucius. "Considering your origin."
"Indeed," I nodded, mirroring the smile. "I have yet to experience the pleasure of uncovering many secrets of magic. Well, knowing how precious time is for such busy gentlemen, I dare not waste it any longer. Draco..."
I looked at Malfoy Jr., standing still and waiting for the end of the conversation.
"Looking forward to the new school year, to once again, as before, spend time in duels with such an interesting opponent."
"Don't worry, Granger," Draco suppressed his displeasure. "This autumn I will show you all the superiority of a pureblood wizard."
"Then you should focus on studying Flagellavertum. Because next year I plan to focus on the comprehensive application of this particular spell."
"Aren't you jumping a bit high," the elder Greengrass smirked again. "This spell is far from everyone's teeth."
"I already possess it."
"And never used it in the club?" Draco was simultaneously surprised and indignant.
"There was no occasion. Well, glad to meet you, gentlemen and ladies. Have a good day."
Nodding, I turned around and walked to my trunk standing by the train. Taking it by the handle, I rolled it toward the exit from the platform, simultaneously expecting a joking magical attack. But none happened. As soon as I was on the other side, a curly hurricane named Hermione attacked me.
"Hector! Where were you? I was so worried already."
It seems she left both the train and the platform long ago, and already unloaded things into father's car. Well, I assume it was he who picked us up.
"Oh, nothing special. Just chatted with Draco and Daphne's parents."
"And... How was it?"
"As you can see, they didn't eat me. Although I won't say they didn't want to. Let's go, let's not keep parents waiting."
Father indeed picked us up in his SUV. Loading things into the trunk, I settled in the back seat next to Hermione, and we went home. What awaited us at home? Joy, celebration, a wonderful dinner, gorgeous food and, of course, hugs from mom, who rejoiced at our successes. Which ones? Well, we talked about studies and that we passed exams only and only with "Outstanding"—after the holiday feast the prefects distributed the results.
Before sending Hermione and me to our rooms to sleep, parents gladdened us that soon we would go to France to rest. True, personally for me there is one condition—I will need to go for a check-up at St. Mungo's. They agreed on this with Healer Smethwyck a long, long time ago. In fact, as I learned, he supervised the process of my recovery, using the connection with Madam Pomfrey. And now, a year after my "recovery," he would like to conduct diagnostics and find out how my health affairs are, how the recovery is going, and conduct a couple of psychological tests. I think I need to go tomorrow, and at the same time buy some small bird in Diagon Alley for sending mail within England. Surely there are some postal owlets. Yes... Hospital, check-up, and that's it—France, wait for me!
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