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The morning of the second school day erased from my head the treacherous thoughts about the "Incredible Adventure" — I think that it will find us by itself. We just need to wait a bit. In the meantime, there is a standard schedule of personal training and school classes.
There was a small incident at breakfast in the Great Hall. Correspondence often arrives at this time, and when about ten different owls flew into the hall, heading for the recipients, I noticed a Pirate flying empty. One of the owls flew quite high and dropped a letter that promised to fall exactly into my plate of oatmeal, judging by the trajectory. However, Pirate performed a dizzying maneuver, intercepted the letter, and landed on the table opposite me.
"Oh-ho-ho!" he hooted smugly in his own style and bulged one eye, looking at me. At the same time, the feathers on his head stood up in even more disorder than usual.
Pirate stretched out the paw in which he held the letter, held it in the air for a moment, and opened his claws, continuing to hold the paw over the table and looking into my eyes. As if in a cartoon, the letter gently swayed down on the table, and only after that Pirate stood on both paws.
"What are you doing?" I turned to the bird, passing my hand over the letter along the way. "Do you think that if you intercepted the mail, then it will be considered as if you brought it?"
"Oh-ho-ho!"
The guys around him laughed softly.
"So, what do you want?"
Pirate began to move sideways across the table to a large plate of chopped sausages. I'll never cease to be amazed at the omnivorousness of magical owls.
"Everything is clear with you, curly-haired crook" smiling, I took out one sausage and handed it to the Pirate. He grabbed it, hooted, and flew away. Opening the envelope, I took out a small letter in which Lady Greengrass, in neat, beautiful handwriting, appointed the first lesson for the weekend of this week and asked me to take Hermione with me. I looked at the girl sitting next to me, who was enthusiastically, quickly, but carefully eating everything she could reach, as she immediately noticed my look and arched an eyebrow questioningly.
"There is a lesson with the master on the weekend. Are you in?"
The girl just nodded — she was too busy eating. I was reminded of scenes from the movies based on the Potter fairy tale, where the now completely different Hermione reproached Weasley for eating all the time. And here she herself eats almost for three, because every day she gives everything to the fullest and even more.
"When exactly?" Hermione asked, finishing her meal.
"On Saturday from eleven in the morning, and on Sunday the same."
"Have you already decided how we will get out of the castle?"
"What is there to think?" I shrugged my shoulders. "We'll go out and go. What will we have now?"
Hermione deftly took out a schedule from the bag lying next to her, ran through the lines with her eyes, and then looked at me.
"Double Charms, then double Transfiguration, and then Numerology."
It turned out that we were not the only ones who finished breakfast, and now, in the general flow of students of different ages and Houses, we left the Great Hall and went to the Ravenclaw Tower.
During the lessons on Charms that day, Professor Flitwick, still standing in front of the class on his improvised stand of Lockhart books, told us for at least fifteen minutes about the importance of harsh and merciless preparation for the upcoming O.W.L.s, because our future will depend on the results of the exams for many years to come. Well, I agree with the professor because he tells this for the majority. Some individuals may not worry about the results at all and continue to live on the money earned by their ancestors, drink expensive wines, eat delicious food in elite restaurants, and generally burn out their lives. There are still people like me who decided to study further. However, not everyone, I believe, has already found masters or masters to go to them for training, and the importance of exams for them remains relevant.
As a result, after his speech, Professor Flitwick gave us a task — to practice Summoning Charm, Accio, without which it is impossible to imagine passing the practical part of the O.W.L.s on Charms and Spells.
After the lesson, Hermione and I approached the professor to discuss the further plan of our research, but to our great regret, the professor suspended this project.
"Don't get me wrong," the little professor hesitated and jumped down from his improvised platform. "Research and project activities within the walls of Hogwarts are not shown in any way. Professors can pursue their own personal ideas, but involve students as equal colleagues or even as assistants is a no-no."
"It turns out," Hermione frowned a little. "Umbridge's presence..."
"Yes, yes," the professor nodded. "I have no moral right to compromise such talented and promising students as you, Miss Granger, and you, Mr. Knight. However..."
The professor glanced behind our backs and, finding no one, turned his gaze back to us.
"We can exchange the results of our mental labors. And I, as a professor, can recommend to you a variety of literature. The only thing that is unacceptable for our work is practice."
"It's okay, Professor," I smiled weakly. "This is more than an acceptable development of events."
"That's wonderful!" Flitwick was delighted and ran to his office, and as soon as we approached the door that had just closed behind him, it immediately opened again. Flitwick was standing on the threshold, handing us obviously handmade files from a pile of identical-looking parchments. Perhaps these are documents copied by magic.
"Here. Over the summer, I worked a little on the theory. Perhaps you, with a fresh look, will be able to separate the grains of truth from the chaff of ideas."
"We'll do our best," Hermione smiled, and we each took a copy, immediately hiding it in our bags.
"In this case, in a week, also after class, please prepare your notes on these materials. And questions. And suggestions. If there will be. We'll work in this, not particularly rich in practice, mode."
The professor hurried to start preparing for the next classes. We went to another tower and another floor, where Professor McGonagall is probably waiting for us, preparing to teach her subject.