HP: Spirit Talker

On the twentieth, I had to return to Hogwarts for a few important conversations, and yes, I had to get another list from the probation officer. And that's not to mention the need to talk to Fleur as my date for the Christmas Ball. Eh, all these women's quirks about the compatibility of outfits and jewelry — it's terrible, but you can't do without them, because the status has to be shown to everyone, "to keep the brand".

Hermione was dealt with quickly. The girl approached the matter very responsibly and thoroughly, so that I even had a list of authors whose pen produced only useless waste paper, or who wrote under the dictation of the authorities. Not to say that the girl took off her rose-colored glasses, but the mountains of curious questions, the right critical perception, even if only educated, but even that was enough for Granger to stop believing any printed line.

I think it's a great result of my subversion, which the Headmaster hasn't had time to find out about yet, because he's had too many positions to take over, and Magical Britain is undergoing a wave of ICW inspections. So Gramps is spinning in a frying pan, trying to chase the impostors out of his territory. Meanwhile, the school goes on, because McGonagall has proven to be a good administrator, maybe a good student, but as a teacher and manager, she's like ..... I don't know, I don't want to swear. In short, she's not, that's all. She's a dry person, with no fire, no spark that can ignite interest or make you respect her as a person.

Neville was more difficult. The guy is trying, but it is very difficult for him to overcome some slowness, shyness and indecision. I am not judging the guy, not at all, because despite the situation with his parents, the guy was protected and cared for, even excessively.

He was not threatened by any specific dangers, there were no situations so critical that he could not survive without breaking himself. However, I managed to interest the guy, even to push him a little on the "weak" side, to give him more motivation and determination. So he sent a letter to his grandmother in a little over an hour, and he looked pretty determined.

I didn't want to invite Weasley, but I realize that without a spy in the enemy camp, Dumbledore would be determined to ruin everything for me, as he likes to do. And so a small concession in one thing will greatly increase my maneuvering room in the rest. Fortunately, I have a letter from Amelia Bones, who has assigned four young Aurors to accompany us, including one Nymphadora Tonks.

The woman was very supportive of my request to put the right person in this group, but she was cautious about my reasons for organizing the whole event. There was also a vague suggestion that she wanted her niece and her friend to join our group of pureblood, common and promising grooms, since I had specifically said that all expenses were mine, including those of the Aurors.

But I was honest and straightforward about it, so I got carte blanche from the official government-all the necessary permits and port keys.

When I fished Ronald out and proposed my program, even though I didn't tell him everything, the redhead was as happy as an elephant and immediately ran off to get permission from his parents. Without permission, it's a no-go.

Later, however, the agile madam tried to hang three more of her children around my neck, but I remained firm and resolute: the Weasleys were not ugly, but they were not the best of people, and they were noisy and unrestrained, and the twins were also very naughty. Do I need such a pain in the ass? Of course not! Potter didn't even need to be persuaded, he was happy not to see the Dursleys for as long as possible, and he wasn't having much fun at school that year.

Two letters, one to the Dursleys and one to Black, went out in half an hour, and already that night the boy had received the necessary permissions. So Dumbledore was out of the picture. All that remained was to talk to the Greengrass sisters and Draco about the ball at the Malfoys'.

To my utter surprise, I didn't find the blond boy at the dinner, and then I got down to business with the Gryffindors. I'd talked to Luna earlier, so the girl and her father would spend the holidays as guests in my house, even if it was a little strange since I was away, but I'd let Junko have her way. At dinner, I didn't find almost half of the Slytherins at the tables, and those who were there looked kind of glum and tense, besides, everyone had returned to the faculty table.

Strange. The Patil sisters couldn't answer that question: the faculty was hiding something, and this time, it was quite qualitative. I had to ask Flint, and the boy, whose appearance had changed slightly for the better after Samhain, said that something had happened to Malfoy, but they were hiding the details. One thing is known: someone attacked Draco, and the heir to the family has been in the infirmary for two days.

Deciding not to delay, I went there, meeting an unusually serious Tracey on the way. The girl, it turned out, was following me, hoping for my knowledge of rituals and 'other serious magic'. We walked quickly. Already at the door to the infirmary, I found several Slytherins, scowling and determined. I wanted to ask them something, but I heard the Headmaster's voice from behind the door.

— ... Since you insist, Lucius, I must agree. However, I think young Draco would be better off... ....

— He would be better off where he can be protected and helped! — The headmaster was abruptly interrupted by the nobleman's voice. — Two days, Dumbledore! Two days of not being able to help my son and trying to hide what's going on from me! — There was a barely controlled anger in the man's voice that made him tremble slightly. — Open the passage! Do it now!

— I've lowered the shields, you may pass through... — came the headmaster's voice in a tone of incomprehension and reproach.

Without further ado, there was a loud thud outside the door, apparently from a portkey or group device. A few seconds later, the Headmaster, McGonagall and Septima Vector, the current Dean of Slytherin, emerged from the infirmary. Dumbledore glanced around at everyone, then stopped looking at me.

— Mr. Hoshino? I thought you had left the castle... — everyone around them listened.

— The Malfoy family is having a ball in honor of the holiday, and I had to meet the heir. What happened to him?

— Mr. Malfoy was the butt of a practical joke. Madam Pomfrey wanted to get rid of the unpleasant consequences for young Draco, but his father decided to take his son away. — I nodded, completely disbelieving this version, things had obviously gotten worse since Lucius had started freaking out like that. — Now everyone should go back to their living rooms, it's getting late... ....

The students walked away in silence, obviously not believing this version, and also not expressing any light emotions. And an hour later, when I was practicing in the gym, Lucius literally flew in.