Chapter 75
History of Magic passed quickly and productively; Hermione and I spent the entire les
“Mr. Potter, this isn’t a history lesson, so there’s no point in reminiscing about times long past.” The professor turned her attention to herself. “Let’s get to the lesson!”
At the first wave of the badger dean’s magic wand, a long wooden table appeared before us, and at the second, two dozen bulky gray headphones flew out of a box at the entrance to the greenhouse and began to move towards us like a wedge of cranes.
“Today we’re going to be replanting mandrakes!” the woman began enthusiastically. “There are seedlings waiting for us in the greenhouse behind me. The plants are still very young, so their screams won’t kill you, they’ll just make you deaf for a couple of days. So if you don’t want to miss the first few days of class, bring your headphones.”
People rushed to the table like old women scrambling for buckwheat on sale, but I, seeing such a rush, decided to wait a bit; the headphones were all the same anyway. When the greedy crowd dispersed, I leisurely approached the table and quietly cursed, as there was only one pair of headphones left—a monstrous bright pink one. Gritting my teeth, I picked them up and, it seemed to me, overheard the sardonic chuckle of one of the fanged guardians. Okay, old man, I’ll remember that.
“I told you it was her favorite color!” Weasley declared as soon as I approached my friends. “Rigel, how did you manage to change their color?”
“It just happened…” I muttered quietly in response, and Hermione turned away abruptly, her shoulders shaking in silent laughter, plus one. “Let’s go to the greenhouse already.”
It was hot, humid, and very stuffy inside the spacious glass room; even the enchanted clothes didn’t help, and it smelled of earth and… dragon dung. The teacher stood next to a dozen large crates, from which protruded greenish leaves, somewhat reminiscent of beetroot tops. Madam Sprout waited until the students had formed a semicircle around her and slammed the front door.
“When I say, ‘Put on your headphones,’ try to put them on as tightly as possible so you can’t hear anything. Remove your headphones only on my command! I’ll raise my right hand to do this! Does everyone understand?” The students began to chatter and nodded in unison. “Excellent, now watch me carefully. Put on your headphones!”
I placed the pink furry wonder on my head, and all extraneous sounds were cut off, as if I were in a vacuum—an extremely strange sensation. Meanwhile, Madame also covered her ears and, rolling up her sleeves, took a small pot from the drawer, then firmly grabbed the tops by the base and yanked them with all her might.
Hmm… Now it’s clear why, in the Middle Ages, commoners considered the mandrake a devil’s plant and destroyed it in every way possible. Instead of roots, a deformed infant emerged from the pot, its greenish body smeared with soil, writhing vigorously and, judging by its gaping mouth, screeching loudly. The professor took a larger pot and placed the deformed thing in it, then sprinkled damp compost on top, leaving only a tuft of leaves exposed. Pressing the fertilizer down slightly and shaking herself, the dean of badgers raised her right hand.
“As you can see, it’s all very simple: split into groups and transplant the seedlings into those large pots.” The woman pointed behind her. “Take the compost in sacks. And be careful that the stinging antenna doesn’t touch you with its tentacles. It stings, and if it gets into your blood, its poison causes a fever that, without the intervention of an experienced Healer, can lead to a slow and painful death. But don’t worry, Madam Pomfrey knows her business and will cure you quickly.” Madam Sprout glanced sideways and gave a juicy slap to the thick, dark green, thorn-studded vine that was trailing behind her, then looked at us with a smile. “Put on your headphones!”
Following the teacher’s instructions, our group approached one of the seedling boxes in complete silence. Ron and Justin quickly hauled in two dozen clay pots and a large bag of very smelly fertilizer, and we got to work. The process of replanting the little green men (God, how ambiguous that sounds!) was a chore. Ever since I was a child, I’ve hated plants and digging in the soil, thanks to the Horse. And Justin and Hermione, as city dwellers, also lacked the necessary skills, so Ron and Elvira did most of the work. No, it wasn’t exploitation or anything; they were just really good at it, unlike their clumsy aristocratic friends. The boys deftly grabbed the resisting Pinocchios by the top of their heads and quickly placed them in their new home. Mia and I, meanwhile, poured fertilizer into the pots, and Finch-Fletchley carried the finished seedlings to a special table.
Seeing how easily Weasley managed, I wanted to give it a try, but I quickly regretted it. At first, the seedling clung tenaciously to the old pot, and while I was pulling it, it nearly bit off my thumb—it hurt even through my enchanted chainmail glove! And when I tried to lower it into its new home, it stubbornly began to dig in with every limb and shoot, smearing me from head to toe with compost. Meanwhile, Ron calmly and leisurely transplanted four of the others. Seeing his look, I realized that farming wasn’t my thing. Having finished with my seedling, I no longer took the initiative and focused entirely on helping my comrades.
Replanting mandrakes is a difficult, messy, and arduous task, but it’s monotonous, so the time flew by. When our company’s assigned crate was empty, Weasley gave Madam Sprout the finger (a signal for the end of the work, yes, yes). The professor quickly checked our work, confirmed that all the seedlings were alive, gave us a thumbs-up, and awarded us twenty-five points, five per snout, before sending us off to lunch. Naturally, everything happened in complete silence, but thanks to Walter, I could lip-read a little, just a little.
As I made my way to the exit, I noticed our group was far from the top; barely half the students remained, and my brother’s group was already gone. No matter what I thought, and no matter how much of an asshole Potter was, he and Longbottom were among the top five students in their year and always strictly followed the teachers’ demands, pulling Thomas and Finnigan along with them. Maybe that’s why the teachers punished them so easily? On the one hand, they were nasty little bastards and bullies, but on the other, they were among the best students, and with rich and influential relatives to boot. The latter is more important; if some poor half-blood with no connections had been in their place, their fate would have been unenviable. Something was going on, maybe it was the stuffiness?
Coming out of the greenhouse, I was struck by the purity and coolness of the fresh mountain air. It was moments like these that I simply adored Scotland, even though it’s located in the middle of nowhere. Having caught my breath, I pulled out my wand and began tidying myself up; my friends were doing the same. But Madam Sprout’s signature compost didn’t give a damn about any cleaning charms! So after about ten minutes, we gave up and, stinking up the air, leisurely wandered toward the living room.
“Interesting…” Justin said thoughtfully, walking slightly ahead. “Can these stains even be washed out? No spell works!” The guy shook the sleeve of his robe, which was covered in a bunch of small brown stains with a corresponding smell.
“Nonsense, the house-elves can handle it!” Ron, smeared head to toe in compost, waved his hand cheerfully. “I remember how my brothers and I were de-gnoming the garden…” Weasley broke into a sly grin. “Then Percy spun one around really hard and he got shit all over… Ahem… He splashed him real good, even got some in his mouth, and I had to throw away his shirt…”
“What a disgusting story…” Elvira muttered quietly as she walked alongside. “Ugh! What the hell is that?” The girl only just now noticed the small pieces of shit… manure stuck to the edges of her skirt and began shaking it off, unsuccessfully.
“It’s no use! Only house elves can clean that up, and not even all of them!” Weasley looked at Smith knowingly. “My mother told me so; she studied with Madam Sprout, too, but she still hasn’t revealed the secret of her fertilizer to anyone. And anyway, why are you so lazy? Like you’ve never weeded your garden beds?!”
“Imagine that – not once.” Justin looked wearily at Ron. “We don’t even have a garden, and I’m used to seeing fruits and vegetables on my plate.” Finch-Fletchley kept trying to brush off his trouser legs.
– That can be fixed! – Ron beamed with satisfaction. – Come visit this summer! I’ll teach you everything! There you’ll learn how to tie up the tomatoes and weed the radishes, and then we’ll de-worm the garden and compete to see who can throw it the farthest. And in the evening, Dad will barbecue for everyone; he’s great at it! Come, will you? – And he looked at us so pitifully that even I couldn’t stand it.
“Okay, we’ll definitely find time in July,” I smiled and looked at the guy. “I promise.”
“I’ll even stay for a week, but on the condition,” Justin looked sternly at his friend, “that you come to me afterwards.”
“Guys, you’re the best friends!” And the red-haired wonder, smeared from head to toe with sh… compost, rushed to hug, and then excitedly began making plans. “Let’s start with strawberries, they’re delicious, and what kind of jam Mom makes with them…”
The entire way, Weasley discussed our employment opportunities, and at that moment, I felt like a migrant worker caught in the clutches of a greedy foreman. Only once we were in the common room did Ron come to his senses and dismiss the future migrant labor team, and the girls and I were able to head to our room. Classes were over for the day, except for astronomy, so we took our time showering. Naturally, we were among the last to arrive for lunch, but I didn’t really care; the important thing was that I no longer stank.
In the Great Hall, I was met with a most fascinating sight: a slimmed-down Neville Longbottom, sprinting around the tables and casting various spells at the ceiling to the merriment of everyone around him, while the noble heir cursed like a seasoned dockside whore who’d let a shy cabin boy escape. The boy’s expensive black robes were “decorated” with numerous white spots of bird droppings. Judging by the splashes, the unfortunate pigeon’s week-long constipation had cleared up at the sight of Neville.
Looking closer, I spotted Woland hanging from the ceiling, a huge raven deftly dodging the second-year student’s spells and even managing to throw a well-aimed poop in return. Judging by Neville’s heavy breathing and the brazen bird’s enthusiastic dive, a Blitzkrieg was imminent. Another half hour and the fate of Poland awaited the noble heir. This was all fun, of course, but I was ravenously hungry, and I also noticed a package tied to the raven’s leg, so I slowly walked forward.
“Whose filthy bird is this?!” the noble heir in his shit-stained robe screeched. “You will answer for this!”
– Mine, why?! – The inner thug in me woke up, I’m always aggressive when I’m hungry.
“He ruined my new robes!” Neville yelled, then turned around and, seeing me, turned pale.
– Presentment? – I glared back, and the impudent raven landed on my shoulder. His claws, the bitch, are sharp.
– She’s expensive… – Neville saw something in my gaze and hid his wand in his pocket.
– So what? – I looked askance at the “hero”‘s best friend.
“He did it on purpose…” The boy’s voice trembled.
– Are you answering to a faggot? – I’m turning into a real punk, I just don’t like Longbottom and that’s it, he’s rotten.
“I just changed!” The boy’s jaw muscles twitched angrily, but he still took a step back.
– So what? – Half the school was already watching our squabble.
“It was custom-made…” The boy noticed my hungry and aggressive gaze and, swallowing, took another step back. “And now it’s dirty…”
– So what? – A magic wand appeared in my hand and I took a step forward. – Should I clean you?
“N-no, don’t…” The proud heir twisted his head around, searching for support, but found none. “I’ll… give it to the house-elves.”
“Well, that’s it!” Under my bloodthirsty gaze, Neville quickly returned to the table, and everyone present in the hall looked at me with respect. Fortunately, the teachers were no longer at the table.
“You know, at times like this you even scare me,” Hermione whispered quietly as we walked to our table.
– What about him? – My friend gave me a good slap on the back of the head and knocked the crap out of me. – Sorry, I got stuck.
– I noticed. – The girl smiled contentedly and sat down at the table. – Bon appétit.
– Likewise. – However, I was prevented from starting to eat by one impudent black raven that moved from my shoulder to the bread basket in front of me.
– CARRRRR! KHA-RRR! – The bird stretched out its paw and stared at me demandingly.
– Woland! – Those around him winced. – Beautiful! Sooooood! – Hermione began to stroke the “homing pigeon”. – Good Woland! – Those sitting around him winced again, but the raven didn’t care, he was melting from such attention.
– What do you have there? – I extended my hand, but the feathered postman pecked me, painfully. – I understand, I’m not stupid.
First, I had to pet the neglected raven, and then offer it a boiled sausage, which the enormous bird swallowed whole. Only after all these ritual dances were completed was I allowed to remove the small pouch from its leg.
– But he’s hungry, poor thing. – My friend started feeding the raven practically with a spoon.
– Mistress, what about me? – A pitiful snake’s face appeared from under the robe. – I’m better!
“Of course, you’re the best. ” I whispered softly as I handed Vasya a meatball, but when I caught his eye, I placed the treat on the table and cut it into several pieces, then added a couple more.
While the pets were getting their fill, I decided to eat too; I was incredibly hungry! Half an hour later, when everything within arm’s reach was gone (the boys weren’t leaving me alone), I poured myself some tea and, grabbing a dessert, decided to examine the contents of the package. Inside was a school bag with a space-expansion charm. Looking inside, I smiled contentedly. Thank you, Mom.
Just yesterday, I told her about a certain gray-haired girl’s problems, and Lady Hellsing promised to help. What can I say, she even went overboard. In addition to a set of textbooks, a school uniform, and writing utensils, Mom packed a dozen pairs of underwear, socks, toiletries, and so on into an expensive bag. Basically, now Luna will definitely want for nothing. Smiling, I patted the plump Woland and the satisfied Vasya, then glanced at the Ravenclaw table, but the sought-after first-years weren’t there.
– Ron, where is Ginny? – I turned to my red-haired friend.
“They’re probably done with their lessons in the common room for today.” Weasley lazily picked at his apple pudding with his fork, then grabbed a piece and handed it to Woland. “Eat a little more, you’re looking so skinny, poor thing.”
The raven might have been happy to refuse, but he was stunned by all the attention; all my friends petted and fed him, which made the proud bird look like a black feathered ball.
“You fucking glutton, how are you going to fly into the nest? ” Vasya looked sarcastically at the raven, but it didn’t answer, busy devouring ice cream. The omnivorousness of magical birds is sometimes astonishing.
– Does anyone know where the Ravenclaw common room is? – Having finished my tea, I turned to my friends; I needed to give them a present.
“Percy, but he’s with the first years now, showing them around the castle.” Ron continued petting and feeding the raven. “Next time, aim for Potter, the one with the glasses.”
– KARRR! – The satisfied bird nodded in response.
– Thank you. – I looked around the Ravenclaw table and found familiar faces, – so we’ll be seen off. Has everyone eaten?
The friends reluctantly began to rise from the table, tearing themselves away from the brazen, enormous raven, who, after such a gluttonous meal, was only able to take off at full speed. Watching my mother’s pet leave, I headed toward the table of the smart guys, two of whom were still seated and clearly in no hurry.
– Anthony, Izzy, hi! – I approached the Jewish boys.
“Rigel, my eyes are glad to see you!” Goldstein Sr. smiled. “Don’t look at Izya, that thug has decided to ruin Hogwarts with his insatiable appetite. I wish he ate like that at Grandma Rose’s.”
“What?” The younger Jewish boy looked up from his dessert plate. “Dad paid a pretty penny for my education, and since they’re feeding me for free here, I’m simply obliged to take advantage of it and make Mom happy!”
– Guys, take me to your living room, I need to give something to Luna. – I looked at the guys with a smile. – I can wait.
“No need, I’m already full.” With these words, Izya pulled a lunchbox out of his bag and began transferring tasty treats from the nearby dishes into it. “What? Dinner’s still a long way off, and I’m a young, growing body. Oh! Sausage, how I missed you…”
I just chuckled at this, but Ron lit up and watched the Jewish boy’s actions attentively, quietly muttering about the genius of the invention. I think I know what to get Weasley for Christmas, assuming his brothers don’t start selling lunchboxes left and right. It’s a really good idea, maybe I should give the twins a hint?
“Anthony, would yours be okay?” I waited until Izya had filled a couple of plastic containers. “We’re from a different department.”
“Please,” Goldstein said, his smile widening with satisfaction. “Most won’t even notice,” and then he suddenly became serious. “But be on guard, just in case.”
After listening to the second-year’s instructions, we headed to Ravenclaw Tower. I needed to deliver a package to Luna, Ron wanted to talk to his sister, and the rest of us were simply curious about the lives of the other houses. Soon, our group found itself in front of a massive wooden door with a worn handle in the shape of a raven’s head, which came to life as we approached.
“Remember it a little bit – it’ll become as hard as a potato,” the head on the copper handle said in a wise voice.
“Snowball,” Anthony answered without hesitation, and the door opened. “Follow me, and this… Hold the door.”
The riddle, of course, is so-so, I thought of something completely different and I wouldn’t be surprised if this answer also turns out to be correct. After all, there were various rumors about Rowena, and in the chronicles she is described as a very eccentric person, but geniuses are all a bit eccentric.
I loved the Ravens’ common room: spacious, bright thanks to the huge stained-glass windows, and the view from them of the mountains and the Black Lake was simply stunning. The dark blue carpets with glowing stars on the floor and the crackling fireplaces added to the cozy atmosphere. The Ravenclaw common room was so quiet that I even slightly regretted being in Gryffindor. I wished I could just stroll out early in the morning with a cup of coffee and sit in a soft armchair, admiring the surroundings, to the sound of a crackling fire. Then I noticed the numerous bookshelves lining the walls and the marble statue of a beautiful woman at the center of all this splendor.
Admiring Rowena, I couldn’t help but marvel at the statue—it was so lifelike: the hair, the sweet smile, the mischievous gaze, and even the weightless robe over her naked body and the magnificent tiara on her head. Everything spoke of the exquisite work of a master of immense talent, who had managed to capture this beauty in stone. Magnificent! I couldn’t find any other words.
– Have you seen enough? – Anthony drew attention to himself. – Come on, remember my warning!
Nodding in unison, we followed Goldstein and soon found ourselves in the center of the living room, where several dozen students sat on numerous soft sofas, but no one even looked up from their books. I didn’t see Ginny or Luna among those present, but our enterprising friend quickly found a solution.
“Sanders, could you do me a favor?” the Jewish boy turned to the girl sitting on the sofa closest to him. “Call Weasley and Lovegood, please.”
– What will happen to me for this? – The girl looked up from her book.
“My respects and…” Anthony took a lollipop out of his pocket and handed it to his friend. “Have a good one.”
“Thank you,” the girl nodded, accepted the treat, and headed towards the spiral staircase.
I watched this scene with a smile, while Ron and Justin took the nearest empty sofa, and Mia and Elvira began examining the contents of the bookcases. I, too, was intrigued, but as I took a step, I instinctively threw up a mirror shield, and the pale blue beam aimed at me was reflected into the far corner of the living room. There, on the sofa, sat a vile group led by a slant-eyed bastard.
My friends instantly forgot about their books and drew their weapons. Justin, after a brief hesitation, jumped to his feet with his pistol at the ready, just as the beam reached its sender, and the tall senior fell to the floor with a squeal. The skin on her face quickly began to break out in a huge number of pustules and abscesses. Her neighbors, along with the petite Chinese girl, jumped up from the couch and pointed their wands at me, but, seeing my friends, they took no action.
I watched with sadistic pleasure as the rat, determined to stab me in the back, rolled around on the soft carpet, and its friends, who were currently eyeing me warily. Except for the narrow-eyed one, this one was glaring at me with hatred and envy, but was trying to put on the most innocent expression. I immediately understood where the wind was blowing, and considering Chang was in charge, I decided to put the scum in their place.
– It’s so funny, you’ll die laughing… – I slowly approached the Chinese woman, stepping over her screaming friend. – Zhou Chang, right?
– Cho Chan. – This monkey looked at me arrogantly.
“I don’t give a fuck.” With these words, I punched her in the stomach with all my strength, then grabbed her long hair and introduced her cute little face to my knee, about ten times, until she ran out of teeth.
Remarkably, her entourage simply watched the execution without interfering, and their emotions clearly radiated pleasure. The slant-eyed woman had assembled quite a gang, no doubt about it. When I grew a little tired, I let go of the Chinese woman’s head, and she collapsed at my feet, wanting to get a closer look at the titanium toes of her army boots.
Why am I doing this? Because Chang was the one who started it! That slant-eyed slut, imitating her older sister, had put together a gang of sadistic bastards and was running them, so I decided to bring her down… Hmm… Down to earth.
The pimply bitch finally stopped squealing and began to moan softly, smearing bloody pus all over her face. But Chang, sprawled at my feet, continued to hiss something in her dog-speak, so I kicked her in the face a couple more times and pulled out my wand.
“Entral-Expelling-Kurse!” My hand made a rather convoluted gesture, and the living room began to stink worse than a greenhouse, and I involuntarily reached into my bag for a respirator.
What I love about healing spells is that they easily bypass most protective artifacts and shields, which makes sense. So, you’re wounded, so what should healers do? To save doctors the trouble, healing spells were added to a specific group of exceptions; standard shields and artifacts ignore them, which I brazenly took advantage of. Narrow-Eyes was hit with a terrifying bowel-emptying spell, developed by Urquhart Rackplug in 1775 to treat poisoning by unknown toxins. Over the next fifteen minutes, everything will be expelled from the Chinese woman, including her stomach acid. The procedure is extremely painful and requires a long recovery period, but it is very effective.
Why aren’t medical spells used in combat? The answer is simple: distance! I was standing right next to the brazen, cunt-eyed bastard. Any mediwitch needs to diagnose before treating, so such spells had a short range, and some required direct physical contact between the target and the wand, so mediwitches weren’t considered a threat, which was a shame. It was possible to cast something like this right up close to the enemy…
But it all came later; Flitwick seemed to come running at the scent of blood, judging by the powerful flash of magic behind me. I smiled sweetly, took a step back, and turned around, then met the wary half-goblin’s gaze. The Ravenclaw Head of House looked me over carefully, then my friends, then quickly took in the whole scene and chuckled cheerfully. A strange reaction.
“Miss Hellsing, what are you doing here?” The half-goblin smiled, showing his sharp fangs, and approached me.
“We came to visit Miss Lovegood and Miss Weasley, they are our friends.” I looked at the little wizard with the most honest eyes. “I wanted to study the books on the shelves, but an unknown spell flew at me, which I took on the mirror shield.” Shrugging, I looked at the howling older girl.
“What happened to Miss Chang?” Flitwick waved his wand to clear the air in the living room, but the Chinese woman made another obscene noise, and the stench returned.
– Um… Miss Chang wanted to help her friend, slipped and fell face first on my knee… About sixteen times. – I tilted my head to the side. – She’s so clumsy, she kept getting up and falling, and then for some reason she started hitting her nose on my shoes.
“An interesting story, I almost believed you.” The half-goblin looked at me strangely. “Miss Hellsing, may I have your wand?”
“Of course!” I held out my concentrator, Flitwick quickly cast Priori Incantatem, saw the last spells and chuckled contentedly.
“Miss Hellsing, I can understand the mirror shield, but what possessed you to use such a specific healing spell on my student?” A note of amusement entered the half-goblin’s voice.
“Miss Chang was hitting her head on my shoes so hard that I got scared and thought she was having a seizure. So I decided to help…”
“You needn’t continue. Ten points to Gryffindor for excellent defensive charms and knowledge of first aid for poisoning.” Flitwick glanced at the Chinese girl’s friends. “Ferguson, Allen, transport the injured to the hospital wing, quickly!”
The girls raised the beaten Chinese woman with the pimply rat with spells and almost ran in the indicated direction.
“And one more thing,” the professor called out to them as they were already at the exit, “Tell Madam Pomfrey that I suspect severe poisoning from an unknown potion; have her pump their stomachs with it, just in case.”
“Yes, Dean.” The Chinese woman’s entourage nodded and left the living room.
“Have a nice day everyone, see you in class,” Flitwick said as he left.
– What just happened? – Ron continued to look at the door to the living room with disbelief. – He didn’t even shout and didn’t really understand, and what about the points?
“That’s normal,” Goldstein patted the boy on the shoulder. “Our dean is successfully practicing the method of natural selection.”
– What? – Ron stared at Anthony in confusion.
“That’s when the strongest survives!” the Ravenclaw raised his index finger. “That’s why Flitwick doesn’t interfere in student squabbles, even though he doesn’t like that Chinese slut, like most of the rest of the faculty.”
“They should have given her a dark one long ago.” Hermione flexed her fists. “That’s all.”
“Granger, this isn’t the place for you.” Anthony looked at Hermione carefully. “Everyone’s out for themselves here, and no one’s going to help you for free. All ravens are individualists to the core…”
– Hey, guys! Ronchik! – Goldstein’s thoughts were interrupted by Ginny, who quickly jumped on her brother. – I love it here! Where are the twins? And Percy?
“RiHel, Mione, Lyra,” while the red-haired sister was bombarding her brother with questions, Luna slowly approached us. “Jass, Six.”
After a quick hello and a round of hugs from the gray-haired girl, our group settled onto the nearest couch. I immediately handed Lovegood my bag, and upon looking inside, the girl nearly burst into tears and began hugging me again, only to jump up and run off to the bedroom. We watched her go and continued chatting.
“Ginny, how did this happen to you?” Ron turned to his sister and waved his hand around the ravens’ common room.
“I couldn’t leave Luna.” The red-haired girl looked stubbornly at her brother and sighed. “I barely managed to persuade the hat. You know yourself that Lovegood is very difficult to make friends with.”
“I’m not complaining!” Ron ruffled his sister’s hair. “Now everyone knows the Weasleys aren’t just brave, they’re smart too!”
– Fool… – Ginny nudged the guy in the shoulder and looked at me. – Rigel, thank you.
“Nonsense, everything’s fine.” I smiled back. “There’s everything he needs in the bag, but let him try it on; if anything, we’ll adjust it later.”
“Of course, I’ll call you again.” The girl took the Miracle Phone out of her pocket.
“Girls, the brain-sniffers told me you’d be coming today…” Luna had already returned from the bedroom and pulled a small canvas from behind her back. “This is for you… I tried my best…”
– This… – I didn’t even have the words to describe my admiration.
The thick canvas depicted our group: I stood in the center, my eyes slightly glowing, with a smiling Mia and Elvira to my left and a contented Ron and Justin to my right. The detail and vibrant colors were astonishing, as if the work had been done not by a little girl but by a professional realist artist.
– Thank you. – I carefully accepted the gift and carefully put it in my bag. – We’ll hang it by the window in the bedroom.
“Luna, how are you enjoying your first day?” Hermione pulled the grey-haired little thing over and sat him down next to her.
“It’s very nice here, Hogwarts is very bright.” Luna smiled back. “There are supposed to be nargles in the dungeons here, but Ginny doesn’t want to look for them.”
“These dungeons are inhabited by bad Nargles, and their leader taught us Potions today.” The youngest Weasley grimaced. “I don’t want to cross paths with him.”
– Yes, the Prince is a real bastard! – Ron agreed. – And there are nasty slugs living there too!
– What kind of animals are these? – Luna leaned forward with interest. – What do they eat?
“They’re real animals!” the sixth Weasley continued knowingly. “And they feed on…”
While Ron was ranting about how bad Slytherins were, I took a thermos of tea and cookies out of my bag, and Mia quickly transfigured a small table and helped Elvira set out the cups and saucers.
We sat chatting merrily for a couple of hours, and what I liked was how the ravens completely ignored us. The Ravenclaws either ignored us or pretended not to, simply passing by, their noses buried in their books. But homework and other chores were still on, so we said goodbye to the girls and returned to our common room.
Gryffindor Tower greeted us with noise and hubbub: someone was yelling, several couples were huddled in corners, some balls were flying under the ceiling, and a crowd of guys were playing tag, knocking down everything and everyone in their path.
– Well, hello, madhouse… – I looked around the chaos with a smile.
“I like it here better,” Hermione said, hitting the ball flying towards us. “Our lions are simple and real.”
– You can’t argue…
“Girls, we’re going to our room. I still haven’t gotten to bed after lunch.” Ron interrupted our philosophical musings. “What are your plans for the evening? By the way, have you written all your essays?”
– Right! Rhea, let’s go! – Hermione pulled me by the hand towards the far sofa. – We just have a little bit left.
“Actually, I wanted to check out the bathroom on the second floor,” I whispered quietly to my friend. “Remember, I told you about it.”
– And when is all this crap supposed to start? – The girl looked at me questioningly.
– On Halloween, October 31st. – I answered without hesitation.
“Here, in two months, and potions are tomorrow!” Mia began laying out writing utensils on the table. “The Chamber of Secrets isn’t going anywhere, and I don’t want to look at the Prince’s satisfied face.”
“You’re probably right.” I nodded in response and also reached into my bag for the parchments. “We’ll check everything over the weekend.”
“We’ll give Myrtle a run for her money at the same time,” her friend grinned.
– And tomorrow is also the Defense Against the Anti-Terrorist Games. – Elvira sat down next to him. – By the way, girls, have you read his books?
– When? – Hermione and I said the phrase at the same time and, looking at each other, sat down at the table in sync.
“Well then, you study, and I’ll read.” Elvira looked at our disgruntled faces and pulled out “Holidays with a Hag.”
My friend and I spent the rest of the evening doing summer homework, even skipping dinner. But we managed to finish the potions and begin the charms; after today, I didn’t want to upset the little professor. As I drifted off to sleep, I wondered how Prince and Lockhart would surprise us tomorrow. How different is this scribbler from the one in the movies? Well, I’ll find out tomorrow…
son scratching our pens on parchment and managed to finish another Potions essay before the bell rang. This time, we wrote about the Dartmoor sundew, a carnivorous magical plant native to the marshes of southwest England. This carnivorous flower was also called the fairy sundew for its delicate pink coloring with ghostly golden “lights” along its outline. And this little thing smelled like vanilla, which, from our Lavender’s perspective, was pure kawaii. However, this wildly cute plant was used in intoxicating and joyful potions, and the aroma made it easy to identify the tainted potion. The Ring of Identification, of course, is constantly vigilant, but even it can be fooled, unlike my sensitive sense of smell.
The ringing of the bell interrupted the monotonous drone of the ghost hovering near the dirty board and woke the great-great-grandson of the first diesel engine—that is, Weasley. The ginger’s snoring truly resembled the work of a Belarus tractor with a muffler burned out over time; now it became clear why Justin was so adept at casting silencing charms. They woke the sleepy boys and headed to Herbology, stopping by the common room on the way—the boys needed to change into work robes. I don’t understand—okay, Ron, but what stopped Justin from throwing all his belongings into his oversized bag? The girls and I always have everything with us. If I were marooned on a desert island, I could live comfortably there for at least a month on my supplies.
Lost in thought and mentally taking inventory of the contents of my bag, I didn’t notice our group approaching a large crowd of students in front of Greenhouse #2. After glancing at the representatives of the Badger Faculty, I nodded to Bones and Abbott and looked at the row of large glass structures. There are only eight greenhouses, each numbered by year, meaning the higher the number in the name, the more dangerous the herbs living there. Why do they live there instead of grow? Because many magical plants can walk or run, depending on their prey or habitat. I was terrified to even imagine what kind of monsters lived in Greenhouse #8. I couldn’t help but glance sideways at a tall black glass pyramid standing a little to the side, surrounded by a high fence and covered with a translucent protective dome.
– Riya, what’s wrong? – Hermione, whose hair was slowly starting to grow back, gently pushed me.
“Just thinking.” I continued admiring the sun’s glare on the glossy black glass. “I wonder what kind of plants they grow there?”
“You mean the Horrible Greenhouse?” Weasley joined the conversation. “Charlie told me there’s a special patch of Black Hemlock there, and it only grows on fresh Muggle corpses! Last year, the twins wanted to test it, but they were caught by Madam Sprout, and then they spent a whole month sifting through dragon dung by hand.”
– So that’s where Fred and George have been all April… – Elvira nodded understandingly and looked behind us. – Madam Sprout.
We, like the other students, turned and greeted the smiling woman in a work apron and a bright blue headscarf. The Dean of Badgers never bothered with her appearance, and sometimes she would even show up in the Great Hall covered in dirt and dragon dung. However, her innocuous appearance shouldn’t have fooled us; my instincts screamed and howled that this particular sorceress was very powerful, dangerous, and generally “bitchy dog, egg click-clack!” In short, extreme caution and politeness were our utmost priority.
“Hello, students,” Madam Sprout greeted them, smiling sweetly at the assembled students. “Congratulations on the start of your second year! Starting this year, our classes will be held in the second greenhouse. The plants there are not particularly dangerous, but I still ask that you exercise caution and observe safety precautions. So, today we will be learning about the medicinal mandrake. At my request, Professor Prince assigned you an essay on the topic as part of your summer assignments. Who will tell us the properties of this amazing and extremely beneficial plant? Abbott?”
“There are several types of mandrake: medicinal, spring, white, and black. The medicinal mandrake you mentioned is primarily found in Southern Europe. There are two subspecies: medicinal and wild. The main difference is the flowers. Wild mandrake blooms in the spring, and its color is predominantly greenish. Medicinal mandrake blooms in the fall, and its flowers have a purple tint,” the fair-haired girl stated crisply. “Despite its name, wild mandrake is more often used in medicinal potions, as its juice is thicker and has much better properties.”
“Excellent! Ten points to Hufflepuff!” The Head of Badgers smiled contentedly. “Mandrake is the main ingredient in most antidotes. But the plant itself is not safe. Who can say why? Potter?”
“Um…” My brother dramatically adjusted his glasses and squared his shoulders. “The cry of a mature mandrake is deadly to anyone who hears it. This plant also has very sharp teeth, so when handling the seedlings, in addition to headphones, you need to wear protective gloves, otherwise you might lose fingers, Professor.”
“Fifteen points to Gryffindor for a complete and detailed answer!” Madam Sprout even clapped her hands.
“That’s not all, Professor.” Harry smiled sweetly, then looked at me slyly. “The Muggles called the mandrake a witch’s plant and burned anyone who tried to grow it. It was all because of that feeble-minded Archbishop Boniface of Savoy—churchmen are all like that—who declared in the 13th century that, because of the mandrake’s resemblance to humans, it was more susceptible to the Devil’s influence and his wiles than other plants.”
Many of the students looked at me disapprovingly, as if I personally had burned agronomist wizards at the stake centuries ago. Well, brother, thank you for reminding me of the wizards’ dislike of church representatives; we don’t like you either. In response to the sidelong glances, I smiled sweetly and crossed myself, showing everyone the silver crucifix on my left hand. The disapproving glances immediately disappeared; everyone suddenly became interested in the structure of the greenhouse across the street. That’s what the life-giving cross does!
While Ron was ranting about how bad Slytherins were, I took a thermos of tea and cookies out of my bag, and Mia quickly transfigured a small table and helped Elvira set out the cups and saucers.
We sat chatting merrily for a couple of hours, and what I liked was how the ravens completely ignored us. The Ravenclaws either ignored us or pretended not to, simply passing by, their noses buried in their books. But homework and other chores were still on, so we said goodbye to the girls and returned to our common room.
Gryffindor Tower greeted us with noise and hubbub: someone was yelling, several couples were huddled in corners, some balls were flying under the ceiling, and a crowd of guys were playing tag, knocking down everything and everyone in their path.
– Well, hello, madhouse… – I looked around the chaos with a smile.
“I like it here better,” Hermione said, hitting the ball flying towards us. “Our lions are simple and real.”
– You can’t argue…
“Girls, we’re going to our room. I still haven’t gotten to bed after lunch.” Ron interrupted our philosophical musings. “What are your plans for the evening? By the way, have you written all your essays?”
– Right! Rhea, let’s go! – Hermione pulled me by the hand towards the far sofa. – We just have a little bit left.
“Actually, I wanted to check out the bathroom on the second floor,” I whispered quietly to my friend. “Remember, I told you about it.”
– And when is all this crap supposed to start? – The girl looked at me questioningly.
– On Halloween, October 31st. – I answered without hesitation.
“Here, in two months, and potions are tomorrow!” Mia began laying out writing utensils on the table. “The Chamber of Secrets isn’t going anywhere, and I don’t want to look at the Prince’s satisfied face.”
“You’re probably right.” I nodded in response and also reached into my bag for the parchments. “We’ll check everything over the weekend.”
“We’ll give Myrtle a run for her money at the same time,” her friend grinned.
– And tomorrow is also the Defense Against the Anti-Terrorist Games. – Elvira sat down next to him. – By the way, girls, have you read his books?
– When? – Hermione and I said the phrase at the same time and, looking at each other, sat down at the table in sync.
“Well then, you study, and I’ll read.” Elvira looked at our disgruntled faces and pulled out “Holidays with a Hag.”
My friend and I spent the rest of the evening doing summer homework, even skipping dinner. But we managed to finish the potions and begin the charms; after today, I didn’t want to upset the little professor. As I drifted off to sleep, I wondered how Prince and Lockhart would surprise us tomorrow. How different is this scribbler from the one in the movies? Well, I’ll find out tomorrow…
