I nodded understandingly, and a goblin in a tailcoat, who was passing by us, grinned predatorily. Involuntarily, I reached for the dagger on my belt, which, of course, I did not have - the memory of fragments, reflexes not biological, but mental. My gesture did not go unnoticed by the goblin, and he grinned even more. If you believe the elf's memory, then there is a solution regarding this evil race, it is the only correct one - genocide. For the common good, of course.
Our line moved forward, and we were one step closer to the customer service counter. A very high counter - even in this small detail one can see the unfounded arrogance of bloodthirsty short people.
"Besides that," McGonagall continued, "goblins make excellent magical bladed weapons, as well as other items from various types of metal and steel. The powers that be at the time decided that it would be a shame to lose such craftsmen."
— And how long ago was the last goblin product created?
- Oddly enough, almost nothing new has appeared since the last uprising. But it is worth noting, Mr. Granger, that their work is very expensive, and its intended purpose is combat. In our time, this direction of magic is dying out due to lack of need.
Yeah, right. That's what I believed. It's just that these little guys, if I remember correctly, use their really serious magic through mass sacrifices of intelligent beings with magical gifts. No possibility of rebellion - no possibility of capturing wizards and other gifted people in large enough quantities. Well, that's if you believe the shards of the elf's memory, and there's no reason not to believe them - the similarity between those and these goblins is striking. That's if you don't count the clothes.
- I see. The threat of another, but bloodier uprising was considered insignificant, given the possible, but equally ephemeral benefit in the form of artifacts.
"There are a number of other reasons, Mr. Granger, but they are not so significant. And keep in mind," McGonagall looked at me sternly as we moved up the queue, "that I am by no means an expert in history or politics. I cannot even guess what the wizards of those times were really guided by, but it was certainly not pity. Those were not the times."
We finally got to the counter and quickly agreed on the currency exchange. The rate was one galleon to five pounds. The financial system here was the way the English like it - a bunch of coins with non-multiple denominations. Gold, silver and bronze. Galleon, sickle and knut. Of course, the gnome's meager memories helped him easily see the magic alloy, not gold, and the precious stones sorted by the goblins nearby - fakes. Everything here is an entourage and a prop, a theater of one people.
The next item on the shopping list was a student trunk. A good functional thing in the local reality. Can be a table, a closet, a trunk, a suitcase. Divided compartments with space expansion, ease of use, cheap. The professor immediately shrunk the trunk with some kind of spell and took it with her. I will need to remember to enchant the backpack to expand space.
Next, we bought sets of textbooks for the first three years and put everything in the same chest, briefly enlarging it back. The ingredients for potion-making were purchased and sent to Hogwarts. Also for three years - I will have to practice in them.
We bought all sorts of small consumer goods in the form of parchments, pens, ink, various tools and a telescope in a store selling small items, and a school uniform with several robes in a store with the appropriate name: "Robes for all occasions."
Selecting a magic wand is complete nonsense. More precisely, the procedure is nonsense, but the concept is mostly correct - a wizard cannot choose any ready-made magic tool for himself if it is not made specifically for him in advance. This is especially true for a magic tool made of organic components. Wood that looks the same can be so structurally different that it will give almost opposite properties to energy when passing through it.
Anyway, in a slightly dusty shop of a certain master Ollivander, I stood for a long time in the middle of a dimly lit hall and waved wands pointlessly, handed to me by a wonderful gray-haired old man in a brown old-fashioned three-piece suit. The old man was simply bored, although I could clearly see in his gaze, which sometimes looked deeper, or something... I saw that he could pick up a wand without too much - he felt and understood the smallest shades of energy. And so I was not surprised when I got a thirteen-inch wand made of acacia with a core of unicorn wool. As soon as I took it in my hands, a bright sheaf of multi-colored sparks flew off the tip of the wand, and Ollivander literally lit up with joy.
- A wonderful wand, Mr. Granger! Powerful and versatile, although it does not accept dark magic, yes. What a pity that you lost two years of wonderful time of first childhood discoveries in the world of magic.
Having thanked Master Ollivander, the professor and I left his shop and headed back to the Leaky Cauldron, or rather, to the transition to the ordinary world. At its very edge, I turned around, peering intently at Diagon Alley, the wooden houses, the signs, and the strangely dressed people.
"Mr. Granger?" Professor McGonagall stood next to me, waiting for me to step over the boundary first. "Is something wrong?"
I looked and compared what I saw with what I remembered. Magic cities, tall white towers of the human academy of magic with its shining spires, perfect cleanliness, magnificent roads, impressive but unpleasant to the elf architecture, healthy and joyful population. Even cities and villages far from the capital or shopping centers seemed no worse than modern megalopolises in terms of quality, or something. And here? Infantile devastation...
- Fugitives.
- What, excuse me?
— The wizards are fugitives. I see before me a hastily put together gypsy camp, flaunting its uniqueness, as if proud of its dire situation.
"I don't recommend you voice this thought among wizards," the professor looked at me sternly when I turned to her. "Even if it is true to some extent."
She sighed, and after quickly checking that no one was around, she continued.
"We wizards desperately cling to the false idea that we were not driven into a corner, but that we ourselves renounced the world. The truth is that we ourselves renounced, but was it of our own free will?
We headed back the same way - pub, bus, home. My parents were still at work, but that's normal lately. As I understood, almost immediately after I was transferred to the Hogwarts hospital wing for treatment two years ago, my parents began working furiously in their dental clinic and now it's expanding quite quickly and even has branches. Well, I have something to think about and work on.
As I planned recently, I need to conduct the so-called initiation with the measurement of life. For this, I leaned out the window and tore off a couple of leaves from the branch of the tree that grows near the house. Next year it will already be knocking on the window in a strong wind.
Easily "folding" my bony little body into the lotus position, placing a leaf on each knee and taking a leaf in each hand, I concentrated on my internal energy. Easily finding the "string" that needs to be pulled to transmit energy, I poured its crumbs into the leaves. This is necessary, since the leaves themselves practically do not carry energy - you need to make these crumbs resonate, decompose the leaves into energy and absorb.
Having mastered this stage, I realized that the body is hardly ready to accumulate energy in itself. Ninety-five percent, so to speak, my body is a conductor and is able to project energy from the soul, but not store it. It was both familiar and unusual to focus attention on such an abstract concept as energy and to hold it, trying to contain it and save it where there is no place.
The next stage is visualization of the seal "Accumulation-Transfer" inside the body. A simple spherical seal of three identical rune circles, attempts to remember which caused me a very real stabbing pain in my temples. The seal must be activated by accumulated energy. I directed the energy of life with an admixture of neutral into the seal. My body glowed slightly green.
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