If we summarize, it becomes clear: the rhythm of life has not changed, and not much has been added. The only thing worthy of mention, as already said, is Draco's apology under the influence of his father. An interesting point, but not so important as to focus all the attention on this point. What is more interesting and much more important is my progress in magic, as well as lessons with Poppy Pomfrey.
These two things are what are most important in these two months. Perhaps it's worth starting with the last one, namely with the lessons of the honey witch.
As in the first two weeks of our acquaintance, we continued to meet in her office on Saturdays. For each visit, the witch gave more and more material for study. Either she was relying on my memory, or this was a test of my capabilities. Something that another has the right to life. Although I'm more inclined to the latter option.
For two weeks after the last meeting, we continued to meet in her office, but in the last three weeks there was a change. Raising my face to the sky, I lost myself in the memories of that undoubtedly significant event.
*****
October eleventh, morning, Hogwarts, hospital wing.
*Knock-knock-knock*
The sound broke the silence, reflecting off the walls it became much louder, but at the same time muffled. I knocked and waited for an answer from the other side of the door.
In fact, this is the first time in a month of school that Pomfrey hasn't met me in person in the hospital wing. I understand perfectly well that she is not obliged to do this, because I know the location of her office, but this picture creates dissonance. Breaking the pattern, so to speak.
"You can come in, Calder," a beautiful voice was heard from the other side of the door. As if in response to the voice, the door opened. Having opened it all the way, I went into the office.
The decor was no different from my last visit, still the same private corner, but there was one detail. She was such that it was impossible not to pay attention to her. What I'm talking about? On the left, near the wall where the closet was located, there was an opening in the wall. A sort of secret passage in an ancient castle, the only difference being that it was much wider.
Poppy stood next to the aisle. Still as beautiful as ever, in her constant robes of a medic.
"Good morning, Calder," she greeted me. Her gaze meticulously scanned me, this is already becoming a tradition. – As you already understand, today's lesson will not be held here, and its format will be slightly different from previous ones.
- Yes you are right. It's hard not to notice a slight change in the interior," I pointed out "changes in the interior" with a wave of my left hand. – But still, allow me a question. Where does this passage lead? As far as I can tell from the layout of your office, this is definitely not a passage to the ore. So where does it lead? – and a slightly demanding look at the end. Everything is as expected.
"As you correctly noted," she said, not paying attention to my gaze or pretending not to notice. – This passage does not lead outside. His ultimate goal is a kind of laboratory. This is where we will conduct today's lesson, as well as most of the ones that follow it. So, shall we go? Or does Mr. genius-who-eclipsed-Potter-in-popularity not want to go into dark and unfamiliar corridors? – The malice embedded in this phrase could be enough for more than one train of passengers, but a glance. Mmmm, a sort of combination of malice and ridicule.
Oh, how I hate you Snape. It was his suggestion that Pomfrey calls me that. It's all about the weekly school staff meetings. At one of the previous ones, the topic of acclimatization of first-year students was raised, as well as their success in the field of magic. As you might guess, the main topic of conversation was Potter. Still, the director and teachers are much more interested in him than other children. No, of course they didn't tell me this directly, but the hints were enough for me to formulate my own vision of the situation.
At that teachers' meeting, the following situation happened like clockwork. How are the children doing, Potter? How are the children doing, Potter? Do children have problems, Potter? And so on. Of course, our Dungeon Horror's inner snake woke up, or it didn't fall asleep. So he said that this Potter of yours is not worth a single egg, his Muggle-born, not the chosen one, surpassed him in academic success, and for this he does not need to be chosen, just diligence.
Of course, other teachers could not resist responding. Everyone, as if obliged, said the same thing. And the fact that I'm good in theory, practice doesn't lag behind theory, but there's nothing to say about helping other children. Naturally, in response to all these statements, Snape threw out the phrase: "Are we really talking about someone other than Potter? How so? Have we really got a genius-to-eclipse-Potter-in-popularity?" Isn't that a beast? He himself started the topic and gave it the "nickname" .
"Eh," I heard in response. - You know how to ruin the mood, teacher. This cannot be taken away from you.
In response to my pitiful phrase, there was a face filled with malice. If only there was a brick...
"Well, Calder," she sang. – Why would I ruin my student's mood? This can't be, and a sweet smile at the end. If I had not known her better, I could have been misled by her actions. But noooo, you won't fool me.
- Eh, let's go already. "God's dandelion," I said, heading towards the parish.
"That's wonderful, that's good," you should have clapped your hands, by God.
Looking at me, Poppy was the first to enter the passage. Well, I followed her. Actually, I started calling her a teacher from the last lesson. Well, when I started, she asked me to call her that. Although no one has a training contract, which is good. The truth is, I don't know what will happen in the future.
I moved with measured steps in this dark corridor, the teacher's back loomed ahead. Loud footsteps were reflected from the walls, but that's what's strange. All I could hear was my steps, but Pomfrey's steps were not heard. Is it possible that the teacher moonlights as a murderer? Smiling at this thought, I followed the witch into the light.
The decor of the room we found ourselves in was different from all previous ones. It was a kind of mixture of a library, a laboratory, and also a ritual hall. Each of these parts was limited from the other, but so gracefully that there was no feeling of irregularity.
The library was a kind of relaxation corner. A couple of dozen bookcases with books arranged in a semicircle, and in the center there was a coffee table with a couple of armchairs.
Ritual hall - two ritual stars, enclosed in circles of runes, carved into the ground, and also drawn with chalk for several years. It was also divided into two sections. In each of them, a circle was knocked out in a field, but with one difference. In one of these circles there was an altar. What was he like? A kind of "stone block", along the walls of which there was a pattern of runes. A sort of ritual stone of a witch from some horror story.
Well, the laboratory. A set of stills and stakes, each at a different height and higher than the other. And the interweaving of the tubes, oh-oh, can cause panic in a perfectionist.
"Stylish," I blurted out involuntarily. – A sort of mixture of a canonical witch and a perfectionist from hell.
"Talk to me here," she said in such a tone that it immediately becomes clear: a little more and hello northern animal.
"I'm silent, I'm silent," I backed down. - So what, teacher? Why are we here? Are you so tired of me that you decided to get rid of me in a terribly dark ritual? You know, I'm not tasty.
– One more phrase like that and even a demon won't save you.
- Okay, I understand you. Well, okay, jokes aside, but still, why are we here? – in an instant, any hint of amusement disappeared from my face, leaving only cold concentration.
- It's simple. Due to the fact that in the hospital it is physically impossible to find enough samples of various diseases, and we cannot create them ourselves, but sometimes we want to, so we will study them here," she pointed to the room with a wave of her hand. – As you noticed, there is an altar here. So, he's here for a reason. Most of the diseases are recorded in his, so to speak, memory, thanks to him you will learn. How is this implemented? Very simply, every disease has a physical illusion attached to it. This is where you will practice. Of course, there will be practice on living people, but only within the school, at least until the third year. I don't think it's worth explaining, isn't it?
"Hogsmeade," I answered, while examining the altar with magical vision. "And third year students are allowed to visit it, and anti-apparition charms do not work on its territory." Are you right?
- Right. Well, enough empty talk, let's get down to practice," streams of mana flowed from the aura of the honey witch to the altar. Responding to the mana, the figure of a middle-aged man appeared above its surface.
- Come on, start the inspection. You have fifteen minutes. Time has passed.
Taking out my wand, I approached the man. There doesn't seem to be anything serious, just rapid breathing. The eyes are normal, the body is the same. Looking at him again, I pointed my wand at him and said:
"Communis Diagnostic," a barely visible greenish beam of the spell hit the man, and ten seconds later returned to me, carrying information with it.
How does the collection and transmission of information from a spell occur? Very simple. In the first case, mana streams remove information from the entire body. The strength of the scan, as well as the direction of the scan, depend on the strength and type of spell. In the second case, it is a little more complicated. Everyone receives and visualizes information differently. In my case, this is a half-magical, half-physical picture for the whole body. A mixture of an ordinary look and a magical component in this.
"Partial kidney failure, appendicitis, and also the primary stage of lung cancer," I answered after processing the information. – Recommendations: cut out the appendix, take a course of potions to restore the kidneys. I don't know what to do with the lungs. It is possible to take a course of potions immediately after the first course, but you will need to carefully select the ingredients so as not to cause complications. Or perform a magical operation to remove the foreign formation, but this will only remove the consequences temporarily, but the cause will remain.
I fell silent, waiting for a response from the teacher. And there she was, her thoughtful gaze simply boring into my figure. The glow of the blue eyes was so strong that it seemed that the eyes themselves simply did not exist, only two blazing fires. But it didn't last long, about five seconds and the presence disappeared, as if it had never happened.
"Not bad," Poppy answered in a slightly quiet voice. – The answer is completely correct, not a single inaccuracy, not a single mistake.
"It's thanks to your instructions, teacher," I answered, bowing my head slightly as a sign of respect. "Without you, I wouldn't be able to answer like that, at least now."
- That's exactly what it is now. Now your words about self-study don't seem funny to me," she answered slightly thoughtfully. - Well, okay, let's continue. Where exactly is the focus of the disease in the lungs?...
From that moment on, it was like this: I come to her, answer the theory, then we go to the hall and continue our lesson there. With her reservations, I realized that at this rate, after the new year I would be able to begin the "practice of treatment", although so far only on illusions, but this is at least something.
To be honest, on that memorable day I thought I was screwed. Her look was simply incredible. It felt like she was going to bury me right here. It's good that everything worked out.
And, perhaps, the most significant moment during these two months, metamorphism. As expected, I was stuck with practice for a long time. The main theme is the transformation of one's organic limbs into inorganic ones. Iron claws for example. To complete this practice, I need the transformation to happen at will, in a moment. And it takes me an inordinate amount of concentration and time. Just four seconds, which is too much. And this is just one practice of transformation... I hope I can handle it by the new year.
But there is a new question on the agenda - Halloween or Samhain in other words. One of the most important days for ritual sacrifice. The place needs to be arranged, as well as the victim.
The place is arranged, in one inconspicuous clearing in the forbidden forest. Everything for the ritual and the fire is there, except for the sacrifice. You can basically get by with food, wine, and so on as usual. But…
Tomorrow a mountain troll will be walking around the castle. Yes, it's a crazy idea, but how tempting it is. Even if I fail to sacrifice, I can get a few drops of blood. Having studied them, it will be possible to use them in metamorphism.
That's why I sit on the astronomy tower and think. I consider the pros and cons, create and destroy plans. He doesn't give me peace and that's all.
Okay, we'll see tomorrow. There are outlines of the plan, but we will act essentially. Getting up from my usual place, I renewed the spell and went back to my room. We need to rest, because tomorrow is not only a troll, but also a canonical event. Let's see how everything happens.
Only measured steps accompanied me on this road