Hogwarts: Through the Veil of Time

The almost forgotten hassle of practicing magical manipulations over and over again lasted for an hour and a half, and it captivated me. Only when we went to the big hall for lunch did I realize that, having forgotten myself, I had stopped psychologically separating my "I" and the elf's memories. But that was only a moment, because these memories themselves hardly evoke an emotional response. They can be imagined as an unchangeable fantasy, invented by oneself, or a film, but with immersion and from the first person. There is something, but it has almost no personal nuance.

At lunch I noticed Hermione rushing to eat quickly and run off somewhere again. What is she doing, all she does is run around the castle like she's been stung in one place?

The third and fourth classes were English language and literature, a mixed subject taught by a short and slightly hunched but cheerful lady in her seventies. Fiction had to be borrowed from the library and studied for six months - three large works and a collection of poetry. The latter was simply taken apart to understand poetry in principle.

The last lesson was Herbology. It was taught by our dean, Pomona Sprout, a plump lady with gray curls of short hair sticking out from under a wide-brimmed hat. The classes themselves were held in the greenhouses on the castle grounds, and consisted of a short introduction to a specific task for today, and a practical part. To my surprise, the subject did not find a response in the soul of the elf, because it was fundamentally different from the concept of working with plants among the long-ears. There, everything is built purely on magical interaction with plants, on communication with them and the like. And here? Typical gardening, except that instead of some carrots - Mandrake, which can easily send you to the next world.

Dinner is a hearty meal, the basis of which is meat of various forms of preparation and vegetables. Also different. Here I let loose, of course, on chops, baked potatoes and some salad. And after dinner, fatigue rolled in. In addition to the fact that the body is not used to such a load, the training bracelets also loaded the body physically. In general, I stumbled into the living room with the others with relief, and when I collapsed on the soft sofa and turned off the bracelet, I completely relaxed. Actually, like everyone else.

"Here's some tea and cookies," Hannah had found a tea set with a very large teapot somewhere, and Susan had brought two large deep plates with cookies of every taste and color.

"Thank you, girls," I said, to the full approval of the other guys. "You're just wonderful."

- Of course! - they smiled.

Well, what should one do over a cup of tea? Discuss the past day, what else? Fatigue faded into the background a little, and we, as an honest company, decided to prepare the homework that we were given today. This, by the way, is the most optimal way - tested by more than one life.

Just before bed, when we lay down on the beds in the niches in our room, Justin asked a question:

- Well, Hector, how is our school?

- It's too early to say anything. But I don't think I'll be bored here.

- Bored? Well, I'd like to survive here. Remind me... - he yawned loudly. - I'll tell you tomorrow what happens here.

A pillow whistled through the air.

- Ow...

"Can you at least not chatter at night for one day, huh?" Zakhary muttered into the remaining pillow, and almost immediately snored, falling asleep.

It's time to follow his example.

Friday, September 3rd. Only the second day of school, but already the last one this week, because Saturday, as I learned, involves classes in various clubs, of which there are quite a few at Hogwarts. True, I have not yet been informed about them or told where to look for information. I suppose this decision is caused by the need to get used to the castle first of all, excluding idle wandering and looking for trouble - a similar tactic has been chosen in relation to first-years. Well, nothing can be done about it, and I myself am in no hurry to sign up for anything yet.

The morning, like yesterday, began with getting up, a light elven warm-up, reminiscent of a somewhat unusual wushu. And, like yesterday, the guys in the room had to be woken up with improvised means. Something new needs to be thought up, because at this rate they will develop immunity to the clanging of a metal tray.

Having packed our things according to the schedule for today, we safely left the room, and some kind of bacchanalia was already happening in the faculty lounge. Everyone was sneezing and coughing, and there was clearly a magical blue fog around, in which many sparks were quietly sparkling. The fog was localized only in the far corner, occupying a quarter of the lounge, and after watching what was happening for a second, one could conclude that those who were sneezing and coughing were those who were trying to remove this fog.

"There's just a lack of concentration and willpower," one of the older students, perhaps from the seventh year, noted.

The boy waved his wand and pointed at the fog and said:

- Evanesco.

It is much more difficult to sense someone else's magic than your own. At least, without preparation. But the tiniest bits of its movement in space can be caught. The trails of this very magic from the senior student's wand enveloped the entire fog and literally began to erase it from reality, and visually it looked as if the fog was very quickly compressing, but did not change density, and disappeared.

"Nothing critical," said the girl, also an older one, who had already begun examining the victims. "Just an irritation from the pollen. Let's go to the hospital wing, and Madam Pomfrey will give everyone a couple of drops of the potion to clear the lungs."

"Maybe we shouldn't?" one of the younger victims looked at the girl pitifully.

- We must, Henry, we must. At the same time, you experimenters, remember well that volatile powdered ingredients must be handled with the utmost care, using a special approach for each.

The unlucky students were quickly sent to the hospital wing, and Cedric, who had appeared in the common room, began to gather the first years into a semblance of a line. Noticing me, the prefect seemed to remember something, waved his finger admonishingly at the first years and moved towards our group.

"Hello, people," he smiled.

We greeted him in disarray, and Cedric, focusing his attention on me, continued:

- Hector, I just remembered that you'll need to hand in the material you covered for the first and second years at the end of this semester.

- Yes, you are right.

- So, how do you plan to pass the flight exam? There are only a few lessons there, but the subject is in the credit program.

- I was thinking of approaching you with questions about the exam in a few days, when I've visited the subjects at least once.

- Got it. Come tomorrow, Saturday, at ten in the morning to the Quidditch pitch. Our team is meeting there. It's worth making sure that we haven't forgotten how to fly on brooms and play over the summer. At the same time, we'll find out how quickly you can get the hang of it.

"Agreed," I nodded, mirroring the headman's smile.

- Then, I won't keep you any longer.

Cedric returned to the first years, and we headed to the exit, where Hannah and Susan were already chatting about something. Having greeted the girls, our male company wanted to go further, to the great hall, but it seemed that the girls were waiting for us, and now the entire third year of Hufflepuff, in full force of six people, was moving briskly along the corridors of the castle.

"So what does this mean?" Justin thought, making him look even more like a rich movie villain. "Do you even have to hand over the flights?"

- Yeah.

- This could be a problem.

- What's the problem? - Ernie was surprised. - He got on a broom and flew away.

"That's for you, who've been in the magical world since infancy," Justin shook his head. "But I was into airplanes as a kid. I knew everything about them."

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