Hogwarts: Through the Veil of Time

Chapter 32: CHAPTER 32



Snape. Interesting, intelligent. All his manners and behavior are literally saturated with "displeasure" from everything around him, but he took the wand in his hands with the utmost respect. Not to me "to the wand. You can immediately feel that this wizard is very partial to magic. Moving his hand over my wand, the professor took it more comfortably, and slowly, separating the words, and most importantly, what I noticed, clearly pronouncing them in the manner of Latin and without any English accent, said:

"Priori Incantatem."

Mist erupted from the wand, forming images of objects I had cast training spells on the day before. Snape looked clearly dissatisfied, and the Slytherins were puzzled. Next came Justin's wand. The images were slightly more precise, but still related to the curriculum. Snape, with a displeased expression on his face, handed our wands back to us.

"It seems, my dears," the headmaster looked demonstratively pleased, "that Mr. Granger and Mr. Finch-Fletchley have been found innocent."

"But..." Malfoy wanted to be indignant, but was again interrupted by Professor Snape's gesture.

"It's possible, purely theoretically," the Potions professor's voice was calm. "These students used magic without a wand."

"Severus, don't be silly," Madam Sprout waved her off. "You are a strong, experienced, and talented wizard. How much can you do without a wand?"

"Enough," he answered succinctly.

"I'm flattered," I smiled modestly, "that, given my life history, you suspect me of such skill."

"Tsk…" Snape turned to the grinning headmaster.

"Perhaps," I glanced at Dumbledore with a modicum of modesty. "Should I check the wands of the other guys? Dispel any doubts?"

Professor Snape clearly wanted to resist.

"An excellent idea," the director did not give Snape a chance to get a word in.

"That way we can get an approximate picture of the culprit of this terrible, outrageous outrage."

Snape reluctantly obeyed, and approaching his students, silently extended his hand. It seemed he kept his blockheads in check. At least the boys didn't even think about contradicting the professor, although they wanted to.

"Priori Incantatem," the spell sounded again, and again we saw smoke from the wand.

The image of the person who had been Stupefied was noticeably blurred, but even so it was recognizable as one of Malfoy's big comrades. The procedure was repeated several times, and each attempt revealed different spells of an offensive nature.

I caught myself thinking that the word "attacking" in relation to those spells caused a barely restrained grin. But no matter how funny and ridiculous these spells were, their type still remains attacking and, in principle, the elf's memory agrees with this "attacking magic does not always have to cause accompanying destruction and grandiose special effects. Sometimes a light prick is enough to bring down a mountain. And they successfully cope with the goal set before the spells.

The Slytherins did not understand at all how this was possible, and their faces sincerely expressed this misunderstanding. And me? Well, I deceived the kids, I'm happy. Although, what kind of kids are they? Look, in one of the fragments there are memories of how at this age, at thirteen, he was already working hard, and could even manage to start a family. Here, as they say, everything depends on the point of view and the environment.

"Here we are, my dears," the director rose from his chair, smiling, "and we found out how it all happened. But such a deception should be punished. Don't you think so, Severus?"

"I will determine the punishment for my students myself, with your permission," the professor answered dryly.

"No, no, Severus," Madam Sprout shook her head with a smile. "We all know how you 'punish' the students of your house. And such an attitude towards my students is unacceptable. Minus ten points from each, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Crabbe, Mr. Goyle and Mr. Nott. And..."

"For such distinguished Slytherins," Snape looked at Madam Sprout. "I have special cauldrons. And a week of detention for me."

"It's good that we've sorted everything out," Dumbledore folded his hands behind his back. "You may go, it's late."

"Follow me!" Snape said shortly, heading sharply for the exit, his robes fluttering behind him. The Slytherins cheerfully hurried out of the office after their head of house.

"It was just thunder," I said in an almost inaudible whisper as Malfoy drew level with me.

"Good night, Headmaster," Madame Sprout nodded to Dumbledore with a smile, and we nodded too.

"And to you," the director nodded in response, heading somewhere deep into his office.

As we left this interesting place and headed down the corridors following our clearly amused dean, she, Madam Sprout, decided to talk about much more mundane matters.

"Mr. Granger, Hector. You don't mind if I call you by your first name, do you?"

"Not at all."

"How are you doing at school, Hector? How are the kids? How are the subjects?"

In general, albeit without much desire, I began to talk about purely positive moments. If I were younger, more stupid, without fragments of someone else's memory, I might have found something to be offended by, something to dislike. But even the understanding that children are quite cruel, and teenagers are not much different from them, did not particularly bother me "it is unlikely that they will be able to "nightmare" the memory of fragments, in which there is more than enough various horrors, both magical and in terms of actions. And as I have already learned, thanks to those same fragments "everything has its time. Now, in this life of mine, it is time for, so to speak, "Entertaining Hogwarts" with its magic, fun and hobbies.

There were quite a few students in the common room when we returned, and everyone began asking Justin and me, as well as Madam Sprout, with undisguised concern, about the reasons for being called to the principal's office, whether something had happened, and all that sort of thing. It was even a little pleasant. But, as the principal had said, it was already late, and routine was an important factor in the successful maturation of a young organism, that is, me.

***

Sunday is a beautiful day! It was a wonderful sunny, warm weather, for which our entire Hufflepuff class, including six people including me, went to explore the nearby territories. Well, I was the only one doing the exploring, and the rest just went for a walk, showing me the local sights along the way.

We were just walking, the guys were talking about all sorts of little things, and Ernie was pestering me with questions about the lives of ordinary people. He is a pureblood, knows nothing at all, and operates with incredible "facts" heard here and there. It reminded me of the fantasies of ordinary people about wizards, only in reverse. But if you think about it, it's all the same, except that some use science to ensure their own comfort, while others use magic.

 

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