Do magic carriages have depreciation? I declare with authority - there is. The road from Hogsmeade to Hog was not the smoothest, so it is logical to assume that in the carriages we should feel every bump and bump. However, this was not the case. All the way to the castle gates I did not feel a single hole or bump. Only a measured swaying, which, on the contrary, was relaxing.
Even though the sensations from the carriage were unexpectedly pleasant (and how did I not notice this during previous trips? Although, now remembering it, the realization comes to me that I simply did not attach much importance to it), but the atmosphere inside our vehicle was not very pleasant.
The air was filled with "wariness" and "tension." Because of this, it seemed that the shadows thickened and began to dance their dance. Pressure situation.
Poor Neville didn't know where to put his eyes, all the time looking between me and Potter. His hands clenched the fabric of his robe tightly, and several beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. And the reason for all this was sitting right in front of us.
Harry Potter was dissatisfied with something, and due to insufficiently good control, mana, under the influence of emotions, "flowed out", giving an unforgettable experience to everyone who was near him.
The gaze of the boy who survived was fixed on my figure. Green eyes glowed with extraneous light, suspiciously watching me. And the kaleidoscope that he was experiencing at the moment cannot be expressed in words. What was there: seriousness, anger, interest, anger and much more. And I had to feel this tangle too. Hmmm, stressful.
I diligently pretended not to notice his gaze, simply staring out the carriage window, watching the landscape as we passed by. Yes, it's banal, and not civilized and not very polite, but I don't want any new problems.
As soon as I even once contact anyone from the golden trio, a whole tangle of problems follows.
However, apparently, I am not destined to just sit it out. Vaughn Neville is starting to get more and more nervous with each passing second. I can understand him; for a natural magician, feeling the effects of "dark" mana is not the most wonderful experience. However, it is curious that according to "publicly available" data, the Potter family are hereditary artifactors. What is important for a good artifactor? That's right, the neutrality of his mana. What do I see here? A clearly visible skew of mana to one side. The question is brewing: is Harry so special or is his entire family hiding something? Mmm, interesting.
"Okay Potter, yours took it," I said, finally turning my attention to the national hero. Know Nev, this is just for you. "What did I do to make you look at me so intently?" It seems that he didn't come on the way, didn't do any harm," I said, remembering all our previous meetings. - So why are you looking at me like that? Or do you want to ask something? So don't be shy - ask.
The "pressure" of magical energy decreased slightly after my words. Judging by Harry's eyes, he only noticed that he couldn't help himself. Hmm, let's remember.
"Wilson, you're a Muggle-born, aren't you?" - nod. - So where do you get so much strength? For example, the ice magic you showed in the train carriage. Not all Hoag graduates are able to show anything remotely similar to what they did. Where does the son of ordinary Muggles get such strength?
- Yes, you are right. "I am the son of the not gifted," he confirmed his words once again. "As for the magic of ice—which you can't find in the school library—I didn't mess around with that." There actually are books on basic elemental magic. Of course, they are strikingly different from those books that are in the rescue room, both in quality and in the amount of information provided. So on this side I'm closed. — If you are interested in this, I can tell you where to find these textbooks. Look and you will succeed.
- And you, Wilson, think that I believe you? - He glared from under his bangs. "Don't take me for an idiot, I won't believe for the life of me that you were able to achieve this simply from textbooks." You can feed such tales to badgers, they will happily swallow them, but not to me.
"Once again I say, your statements are not very "Gryffindor", Potter," I answered, instantly losing my feigned good nature. - It's not for you to judge them. And especially not for you to catch me in a lie. If you don't believe it, that's your right, but you shouldn't insult everyone left and right.
By turning to the window, I thereby showed that the conversation was over. Somehow Potter has completely stopped holding back, since he allows himself to express such words. How did it not come back to haunt him? Or does he act this way only among a certain circle of people? Then how did I get into it? Questions and questions, there is no end to them.
The rest of the trip was more or less peaceful. Potter stopped flashing his mana left and right, which made Nev feel much better. That is great.
I stared blankly out the window all the way to the castle, pondering my further development. Perhaps it's worth taking a closer look at the magic of space. Still, Invis is a very useful technique. And the school of space itself is very promising, in my opinion it is one of the most promising schools.
True, if you increase the time for something, then it's worth taking that time away from something. Hmm, in principle, you can reduce the time you spend visiting the library even more. Leaving only when we visit her with Neville. This will give you much more time. Of course, this is still preliminary, but in practice it will be seen. Of course, I didn't forget about my other "paths." Here everything is as usual, we continue to move at the same pace.
The road to the castle could have been relaxing, but no, no, I felt Potter's gaze on me. And the emotions of the boy who survived danced with such force that you wonder how he even lived with such problems in his head.
Arrival at the castle went smoothly. The children, tired from the journey, wanted to quickly get to the bedrooms, so without stopping, they all went together to the Great Hall, although they perfectly understood that they would not be able to leave the feast earlier than expected.
Avoiding the crowd at the entrance, Nev and I also headed towards the Great Hall. Somehow, unnoticed by us (well, yes, of course) Potter separated from our group. Well, okay, it didn't hurt and I wanted it.
This time Nev sat down at the badger table, as it was a feast to open the new school year. Therefore, he will have to at least sit with his faculty now.
Gradually the Great Hall began to fill with students and teachers. The echo of voices filled the hall, creating a cacophony of sounds. Someone was arguing as always, someone was indignant and wanted to quickly get into the faculty living room, and from there the room was just a stone's throw away.
Over this summer, all the children have changed at least a little. Some got tanned, some stretched out, some lost weight, and some, on the contrary, gained weight. There were changes in everyone, which is not surprising in the trailer.
The professors opposite have not changed, everyone seemed frozen in time, as they were at the end of the year, they remained that way.
Finally, when everyone had gathered, McGonagall, warning us all to be quiet, headed off to the first years. Now they will take one of the most important steps in their lives. Although I'm only interested in one person.
The doors opened and future Hogwarts students entered the room. Interest, apprehension, joy, detachment. Everyone is different, but everyone as one did not remain indifferent. You can understand them, even I was intrigued when I was in their place.
Having placed a stool and placing her hat on it, McGonagall told the new arrivals about the rules of distribution. After making sure everyone had heard her, the Transfiguration professor called her first student over.
A small stream of students reached out. Everyone went where they sincerely wanted to go. There weren't very many children this year, only about one and a half hundred. And this is understandable, even if Hogwarts is the best school in England and Scotland, there are at least three more schools on the territory of magical England. Not every child can get here. Some people simply can't afford it, and some simply don't have enough talent. Alas, there is no equality in the world. All people are not equal. At least in this world for sure.
- Luna Lovegood! - Having read another name, the professor shouted. Oh, here comes the person I'm interested in.
Slowly, without hurrying anywhere, Luna emerged from the crowd of students. Judging by the reaction of the other students, she was taken in absentia to the "sick" camp, look how they look askance. You might think that the child is slightly withdrawn from the world, but this does not give them a reason to look at her like that. It's true what they say: Children are some of the most cruel creatures.
As soon as the girl sat down on the stool, the brim of her hat hid her eyes from the whole world. True, before that she somehow managed to find me with her eyes. Smiling slightly, I nodded approvingly to the girl.
Luna did not sit with her hat on her head for a long time. After about seven seconds, the confident voice of the hat sounded throughout the entire hall:
- Ravenclaw!
Our table clapped in unison for the new relative in the house. I clapped along with the others. Taking off her hat, Luna quickly walked towards me. I just sat down at the very "end" of the second year, to be closer to the freshmen.
Luna sat down next to me and looked at me with her silver eyes expectantly.
- Well done, Luna. "I didn't doubt you at all," I said with a slight smile, stroking the girl's head.
"The hat asked me where I wanted to go," Luna said, smiling contentedly. - I said that I wanted to see a friend.
Smiling at her again, I turned my attention to the distribution, and it continued. There are only so many children left, but there will still be enough for a few minutes.
- Ravenclaw! - the hat shouted once again, thereby filling the ranks of our house.
Only now I realized who exactly came to us. Astoria Gringras herself. The designated person, flashing her smile to the whole room, confidently walked towards our table.
How did she get here? Turning my gaze to such snakes, I did not notice any negative reaction; even Daphne did not see anything like that in her gaze. It's a pity that I can't make out their emotions. There are too many different sources, which makes this difficult for me.
"I'm glad to see you in our house, Astoria," I greeted the girl who sat down opposite me. - But are you sure of your choice? Maybe you should have gone to the Greens after all? - he will suddenly answer.
"Thank you Calder," the girl smiled mischievously. "Don't worry about me, my mother studied in this house, so there won't be any problems."
Nodding, I returned my attention to the distribution, at least outwardly. So what again? I remember exactly that in the story she was sorted into Slytherin. What has changed in this story? Could what happened on the train influence her decision? Or our conversation?
Hmm, another question, but nothing can add clarity. One thing is clear to me: this snake is muddying the waters.
The distribution has come to an end. The director, according to tradition, gave a speech, after which we proceeded to the festive dinner. As always, the work of the brownies deserves nothing but praise, the food was very tasty, there was a lot of it, and its variety was even a little amazing.
The most silent faculty, according to tradition, was our faculty. No conversations were heard, just a couple of insignificant phrases, that's all. Usually, if there is a conversation here, it is on some interesting topic.
As soon as we finished dinner, the food disappeared from the tables. Another speech from the director and we all headed out of the large hall together.
As I understand it, what follows is instruction for freshmen, then sleep. Well, for the first three courses, the rest will be a huge drinking binge.
As soon as I left the great hall, McGonagall caught me.
"Mr. Wilson, I'll ask you to follow me," she said seriously, as always.
"And good evening to you, professor," is a small quip addressed to her. Cultured people say hello. Judging by her pursed lips, she hit the nail on the head. - Actually, for what reason do you need me? Because I'm so tired, I just want to go to bed as soon as possible.
- No need, Mr. Wilson. The director calls you to his place for a conspiracy.
Having finished speaking, the professor turned around on the spot and walked along the known route, fully confident that I would follow her.
Hmm, it didn't work. And I was so hoping that what happened on the train would fly past me, but apparently not fate.
Without stopping, I hurried after the professor.