*****
Slowly, as if reluctantly, mana began to "flow" drop by drop into the small contour of the ritual circle, painted with many runes drawn in chalk. Drop by drop, the energy penetrated into the insides, gradually filling the entire "space". All my "mental" strength went into controlling this process, trying to fill the drawing with small, strictly limited shares.
Finally came to an end. Letting go of the "vice" of my mind, I sighed tiredly, wiping away the sweat that appeared on my forehead. It was that hard.
Having examined the drawing once again with magical vision and not finding any serious "errors" (Precisely in the filling of energy! Merlin forbid he should make a miscalculation in the outline of the runes, and if this happens, it will be a miracle if I remain alive.) nodded contentedly. Great, we can get started.
Concentrating a little, I "sent" a thought-key-command into the drawing. As if he was just expecting this, he received instructions and began to work.
Gradually, moment by moment, the drawing began to glow, becoming brighter every second, until it stopped at one "level" of power. Five seconds later the light faded away, leaving no trace.
With a wave of my hand, pulling toward me the piece of parchment that had previously been lying in the center of the drawing, I eagerly began to read the "dry" lines of text, written in even handwriting. (What can I do, I'm always like this when it comes to self-development, especially magical (and mental))
After a couple of seconds, I contentedly put the parchment aside. Mana losses do not exceed thirty percent, incredible progress, considering that I have been studying runes for no more than a month (and at the beginning the losses were fifty percent! It's terrible how much mana I lost just like that. Although for other novice ritualists, losses can exceed eighty percent. Here it is worth thanking my control. By the way, it is because of this that most rituals require the blood of a ritualist to facilitate control, although in many of them you can get by with banal control). It's a pity that such progress will not last forever. In literally a month, or maybe even less, my progress will stall and will completely depend on my mana control, and it is not going to grow so rapidly.
What am I doing? As it's not difficult to guess, I began to work closely on mastering a "new" school for myself: Runes in general, ritualistics in particular. The recent action was nothing more than training in rituals, because almost fifty percent of success depends on this (exactly fifty percent goes to the scheme itself and a couple more percent is attributed to the "creativity" of the ritualist, which at a certain moment (usually not the most pleasant) can save not only the ritual against collapse, but also the life of the person conducting it (alas, usually magicians rarely survive under such circumstances)), and this is a lot.
I was not going to leave the solution to the problem caused by the rapid growth of prana to chance, which is why I plunged into a new industry for myself. True, if this does not help me much, then I will have to switch (or partially transfer attention) to one of the two other schools, which can also "help" me in solving this delicate problem.
Okay, I'll practice a little more and then I'll have to leave; soon even I'll have to go to bed so as not to reduce my productivity.
Taking the much smaller chalk in my hands, I began the next "drawing" session. The faster I can make drawings, the better.
The sounds of the contact of chalk and stone, generated by my work, began to spread throughout the huge hall.
*****
The clink of metal cups, the grinding of metal spoons on plates filled the entire space of the Great Hall, but just five seconds ago it was filled with the voices of children enthusiastically discussing something. But alas, everything changed in an instant.
Potter's appearance in the Great Hall caused incredible excitement like never before. I don't know why this happened, but after the incident with the cat, most of the school decided not only to "shun" the Hero of Light, but also to stop not only with him, but even in his presence did not utter a word.
Poor, poor (poor...) Potter. Such a psychological attack simply could not affect (her), although outwardly (she) did not show (showed) even a drop of the emotions that had taken possession of him (her). The same mask of "cold" detachment, mixed with arrogance. However, I perfectly feel what she experiences in such moments. Rage, anger, anger, hatred, sadness, and also pain. There was much less of the latter, but these emotions were still present.
At first, her "new" friends still tried to support their friend, but after a week, faced with general alienation, they retreated, at least at first glance. In fact, they continued to communicate with each other, but behind closed doors. If Parvati was glad to at least somehow help the Hero, then Seamus... Oh, this representative was increasingly reminiscent of a small rat in his behavior. First they were friends, and now they are enemies. He is both a friend and an enemy... In general, he is not the most pleasant person.
The most comical thing about this whole situation was that Harry was perfectly aware of how they treated her. And if she still tried to maintain a relationship with Parvati (it's surprising why this didn't happen with Hermione? What could have happened for her to try to kill her? I wonder...), but not with Seamus. Each of their meetings was something like a clash between a ram and a snake. One did not notice the attitude of the second, "expressing" his friendliness in every possible way, the other tried to bite more painfully, but alas, the ram has nothing to do with snake bites...
Also, don't forget about our supply manager. This rage directed at the Hero could not be confused with anything. It seems that with her thoughtless words she managed to make herself an enemy, a pillar of devotion, that you involuntarily ask the question: "Is Tom really her sworn enemy? Maybe Filch?
The door closed with a barely audible creak, cutting Potter off from the Great Hall. At the same moment, a cacophony of sounds filled the space. Hmm, it has to be like this... Unable to resist, I shook my head in condemnation. I don't understand people.
On the periphery, I noticed Parvati running after the Hero. I hope she doesn't kill this friend, otherwise it will be a pity... Probably.
- Well, what do you think about this, Nev? - unexpectedly for everyone (namely: me, Neville, Astoria and Luna!) Padma Patil, the twin sister of the Hero's friend, asked a question.
- What are you talking about? — Finally, having recovered from a slight stupor (after all, only our company communicates with him outside the faculty), the guy answered, looking questioningly at the girl.
Smiling at him intriguingly, as if we were not here, she leaned slightly towards his ear and whispered in a quiet voice (flirting? Wow... I wonder why?):
- About Heir Potter, of course. What were you thinking? - this "widow" on minimum wage asked cheerfully, pressing slightly closer to him and batting her eyelashes.
Embarrassed by such intense attention to his person, Nev pressed his head into his shoulders and lowered his gaze. Eh, okay, we need to help the poor guy (and keep an eye on the unfinished succubus...).
"Don't be afraid, Nev," I said in a soothing voice, projecting my confidence onto him. "Everyone here is our own," a fleeting glance at Padma, as well as Michael Korner, bursting with interest in all directions (an ordinary guy, average build, maybe a little thin. The owner of dull green eyes, as well as black hair cut into a bowl). - At least most of it.
Looking at me, Neville just smiled gratefully. Well, at least we somehow managed to cheer him up. After all, Halloween is not only a holiday, but also a day of sorrow for individual individuals. And Neville is a particularly sensitive guy, so as soon as he remembers his parents, his mood disappears for a long time. And how can one not remember them, if on this ill-fated day they "left" the world?
"This is all nonsense," Nev began barely audible, but with every word his speech became louder and more confident (praise to empathy and a couple of abilities based on it). "No matter how strong he was, he would not have been able to cast the spell that was found on the cat."
- What charms? - Michael couldn't resist, but at the same moment he lowered his head guiltily under Patill's gaze. (Interesting…)
- You do not know? — he asked them a little surprised, but seeing the negative movements of his head, he continued: "At our very first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, Professor Lockhart told us about this... Stop, you were in a class with us." So why are you asking? — Nev finally remembered that these two seemed to be paired up with him.
- Do you seriously believe all the nonsense that this "wizard" is telling us? - Korner, surprised and somehow grimacing, as if he was talking about something nasty, inserted himself into the conversation again. This time Padma did not interfere in the conversation, and judging by her emotions, she completely agreed with his words.
- Are you seriously? — my friend looked at them with shock and some disbelief. - How so, because he tells a lot of useful things...
- Are you saying that when you see a mermaid you should scream harder? Do you seriously believe this nonsense? — Patill, who had been silent until that moment, still could not stand it and also expressed what she was thinking.
"But..." Nev began to convince him, but he was stopped by my hand that lay on his shoulder. Turning and looking questioningly at me, he only saw negative head movements. - Col...
- It's not worth it. They don't even try to understand you," a sidelong glance in their direction only confirmed my words, their faces were too "talking."
And about Gilderoy... I looked for more information on fighting these sea people and it did mention loud screaming as a way to fight lesser mermaids and mermen. And the reason for all this was simple - they have very sensitive hearing, so a sharp cry can cause them pain. (And this method was mentioned specifically for weak magicians, which we are. For specialized spells, we simply do not have enough reserve and control. Something like that...)
- And besides, how can a good teacher afford to conduct regular performances instead of lessons? If you didn't know, this is exactly how DADA lessons are taught by lions and snakes," said Michael, pleased with himself, as if doing us some kind of favor.
- Yes? "I didn't know..." Nev drawled in surprise. And looking at him I wanted to laugh, because he knew this very well. Haha, little schemer. Astoria has a very bad influence on him. It is not for nothing that they say that a person is made by his environment. This proverb fits our case perfectly.
- Here you see! "He's not a teacher, but just an ordinary deceiver, it's unknown how he deceived the Director," Michael nodded contentedly and, having lost interest in us, returned to the meal. (However, I continued to feel his interest directed towards us).
"Let's leave this "professor," Padma finally took the initiative. "Better tell me, what do you think about Harry?" — the girl didn't let her slip away from this topic.
Looking helplessly at us, Nev received in response a malicious smile (Astoria, who had found another topic for future jokes. Poor Nev...), calm (Nev's Confidence), mysterious (The moon was somewhere far from us...). Looking at us as traitors, the guy still turned towards the girl waiting for his answer:
"As I told the wound, Potter is not capable of doing such a thing," the guy began much more confidently. - The first reason is the spell, but it did not convince you, the second is the impossibility of performing this act. Judge for yourself: right after classes, he was in detention with Professor Lockhart," a nod towards the designated person who was currently whispering about something with McGonagall. — After detention, he was at the celebration of Almost Headless Nick.
- What holiday? — she asked, widening her eyes in surprise.
"And it's better to ask the birthday boy himself, if he can be called such," I took the floor and turned to the right, almost nose to nose with the ghost. "Good afternoon, Sir Nicholas," he nodded slightly in greeting. - And we were just talking about you.
"Oh, it's a great honor to be the topic of conversation with Sid himself (what?)," he bowed slightly to our group. And then he fleetingly looked towards Gringras Jr. and smiled mysteriously (well, a snake...) - How can I help? - He looked at me again.
"Can you enlighten us on one topic," I began. - Is it true that on October thirty-first, on Halloween, Mr. Potter and his friends were present at your party? And stayed there until the night?
"That's right," the ghost nodded importantly, causing his head to almost fly off his shoulders. "Young Potter and his friends did me the honor of appearing on my death day." True, no one else came - somehow the ghost drooped at the end and, not paying attention to us, swam away in a direction unknown to us.
There was a little silence. My friends and I continued to eat dinner, and Padma looked in shock at the place where the ghost had recently been.
"But how... Everyone says..." the girl whispered lostly.
"We need to gossip less," the snake drawled sarcastically. - And believe everything they tell you.
"Who would talk about gossip," I counterfeited her.
"Unlike some, I can separate the grain of truth from a pile of slag," she said, proudly raising her nose.
"Well done, Astoria," Luna said, starting to stroke her head, as if mocking her.
- Moon! What are you doing? - The blonde girl exclaimed in shock.
- I'm ironing.
- But why?!
"To praise," she shrugged.
- But I do not want!
"Astoria, you said that you like it when you…" she didn't have time to finish due to the presence of an additional pair of hands that covered her mouth.
- Stop it!
- Mmm.
- Quiet!
Having fun watching them, I could not bathe in their emotions, they were painfully bright.
And poor Patill was still digesting the information she received from us. Michael, unlike her, didn't believe us one bit.
Well, it's his choice.
*****