I can assure you without concealment, being underwater, under sleep charms, stasis, and Merlin knows what else is a doubtful pleasure.
I cannot say with certainty how strongly a wizard's thinking process is tied to his brain, at least the process of thinking familiar to us, but even under these charms I was mentally awake. True, this wakefulness was as if under a horse dose of sedatives, but without a hypnotic effect, and it concerned only the mind. I'm ready to bet that if I didn't have spiders and a connection with them, consciousness would have been knocked out too. Still, the visual and audio information coming from them keeps consciousness one way or another.
But there is a minus in this too. The mind turned out to be cut off from the body. Simply put, I felt like an extremely stupid mind of a swarm of spiders. By themselves, they are stupid, or rather, obeying a behavior model and having not even a hint of intelligence, but it seems my soul knows no rest, and having lost connection with the body, but not binding to it, having lost the information coming in huge quantities from the body, concentrated on the available—spiders.
There is not much sense in this. The spiders sat in the corners of the castle where I left them and where there was the best view around, because they have no needs of their own. Or they scurried somewhere, obeying the gloomy interest of my consciousness. It was this couple of figures that I tried to take under control to get to the venue of the competition.
Was it easy? No, not at all. To begin with, spiders are very small. Even if they are not limited in their capabilities by the size of their brethren, they remained really small, and overcoming the path from the castle to the Black Lake, and even in the pre-dawn twilight, was very difficult. Every stone is a huge hill. Every hill is a mountain range. Dry grass is strange winding obstacles. And there was also a risk of a banal attack from the fauna. But, with grief in half, I managed to get to the shore, where wizards from the Ministry were hastily erecting stands, setting up tents and generally preparing for the event.
Having arranged the spiders so as to have a view of the entire area of the planned event, to hear everything necessary, I began to wait. And waiting turned out to be unexpectedly easy. Set a goal—fulfilled. No physiological limitations, no boredom. True, the speed of thinking and generally, the image of this thinking, were extremely dull. And understanding the difference was depressing.
It was getting light. Ideally, breakfast should be taking place now. Will the disappearance be discovered immediately? Well, my disappearance will be noticed immediately, like last time—I always go to breakfast. Hermione, in theory, too. Cho... The devil knows her, never paid attention—her existence does not interest me from the word "at all".
Spiders in the castle "signaled" that students under the guidance of teachers left Hogwarts and headed to the pier. Along with this, I saw invited guests and other spectators beginning to flock to the stands. There were quite a few of them. I won't lie if I say that no less than several hundred people. Madam Pomfrey flashed by, organizing a first aid tent together with colleagues in lime robes. Aurors in red robes flashed around the territory, and wizards in strict civilian clothes and coats... They looked like some gangsters from Chicago of the "twenties".
Where am I? Well, somewhere in the lake. Strange as it may sound, but I do not feel a certain "center" of consciousness now, a carrier for it.
I also noticed the Malfoy couple. They were talking about something with other important-looking wizards, and directly with the Minister. Fudge was clearly unhappy about something, but nodded, agreed.
Gradually the stands filled with students and guests. A special place was occupied by seats for judges and a table covered with gold cloth, organically inscribed in the stands—the Headmasters, Ludo Bagman and Mr. Crouch were already located there. Very displeased and angry Mr. Crouch, and his strict pinstriped business suit and robe-coat, along with a bowler hat, gave even more severity.
Some of the last to arrive at the venue of the competition were the champions accompanied by their support groups. Of course, Krum and Delacour came together with all their comrades, but Cedric, mostly with classmates, and only rare guys from other years not only of our house, but also others, decided to walk along with the champion, losing the most comfortable seats in the stands.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Ludo Bagman spoke, putting his magic wand to his throat and amplifying his voice. "Dear guests, spectators! Welcome to the second task of the Triwizard Tournament!"
The stands began to applaud actively—someone whistled, someone launched crackers, and someone clapped quite reservedly and politely, but these were mainly older wizards.
"Still a whole five minutes before the start!" someone shouted from the crowd.
"Ten!" shouted another.
"While the champions approach the judges' table for instructions," Bagman continued to speak regardless of anything, dressed in some eye-popping robe, yellow colors and with patterns on a star theme. "I will tell you about the essence of the task."
In a couple of seconds, the audience calmed down and fell silent, ready to listen. A pair of wizards, meanwhile, carried a large roll of black cloth out of one of the tents. They quickly went out in front of the stands, spread the cloth, which turned out to be really large, and with a couple of waves of wands hung it in the air like a screen.
"Last night, from our dear and beloved champions," Bagman continued to speak, "From each of them, something was stolen. A kind of treasure. These three treasures are now lying at the bottom of the Black Lake..."
Bagman played with his voice quite well, driving a little horror and mysticism.
"...To win, each champion only needs to find their treasure and appear on the surface. Everything must be done in one hour. Then the champions will have to rely only on themselves."
I wonder what this wonderful wording means? As if it didn't turn out to be a big trouble.
The champions listened to the briefing from the judges, nodded, showed in every possible way that both the essence and responsibility were clear to them, and began to change. Judging by the fact that under everyone's clothes were swimming suits, the goal of the task remained a secret for no one.
As soon as Fleur threw off her outerwear and found herself in a tight-fitting swimming jumpsuit, the male part of the stands rejoiced. Not all, of course, but no one refused themselves the pleasure of looking at the harmonious contours of a pretty blonde. But the female half got even, enthusiastically welcoming Krum in shorts and a T-shirt. True, like it or not, Viktor was not the most anatomically correctly built guy, stooped and a little club-footed, but his fame was more than enough to compensate for this, and in the future—medicine will help, I understand. The others understood this too. Well, and Cedric remained Cedric. Outwardly he was much above average, and ideal symmetry makes any type pretty, even slightly angular and sharp features of an Englishman.
One of the organizers from the Ministry approached the champions, checked what they had with them, made sure that only a wand and knives in sheaths on the shin—a permissible exception—and began to cast something over them. As soon as he finished casting over Fleur, a third of the huge black canvas suspended in the air was occupied by an ideal image of the girl, as if from a video camera. The distance in the image was, I would say, correct, allowing to see both her and the surroundings. I assume similar charms were used at the Quidditch World Cup Final.
As soon as the images of all three champions occupied their areas on the black canvas, Bagman continued to speak, despite the noise from the support of the champions by fans.
"So, ladies and gentlemen! The time is approaching for the start of the competition! Are the champions ready?! Excellent! Immediately, at eleven, as soon as the cannon shot rings out, it will be possible..."
A loud shot stunned everyone, and a column of smoke rushed aside from the cannon standing on the platform next to the stands.
"Forward!" Bagman immediately yelled.
The champions rushed to the water, applying the charms they needed on the go—that's exactly how it would be written in some Prophet. Only two ran—Krum and Delacour.
"What is Mr. Diggory waiting for?!" Bagman was enthusiastically indignant. "Oh, it seems he is pronouncing a spell, but, unfortunately, in a whisper and without effects! What is this?"
While everyone waited for the result of Cedric's spell, Krum, who ran to the water and even plunged knee-deep, applied partial transfiguration to himself on the run, turning his head, neck and part of his shoulders into a large shark head with gills. A jump, and he dived into the lake, disappearing from the surface, but the image on the screen clearly showed him swimming in slightly muddy, greenish water.
Fleur applied the Bubble-Head Charm and purposefully dived after Krum. Cedric stood, waited. The audience began to resent, but here his broom flew to him through the sky, and the prefect immediately intercepting it, jumped up and rushed like lightning to the middle of the lake.
"How unexpected this is!!!" Bagman rejoiced, and the audience rejoiced with him.
"Ced-ric! Ced-ric! Ced-ric!!!"
"It seems Mr. Diggory thoroughly solved, guessed and calculated the essence of the competition!!!" shouted happy Bagman, looking after the flying away Cedric. "Is this against the rules? Decidedly not!!! As my colleague Mr. Crouch, a magnificent connoisseur of rules, says, a wizard's mind is an integral part of him! If he managed to predict and prepare properly—this only plays to his advantage!"
Meanwhile, Delacour and Krum were gradually sinking into the depths of the lake. What is interesting—the light closer to the bottom did not become less. Well, only if a little bit, as well as the narrowing view, but slightly. Our lake cannot be called crystal clear and transparent, so something like this is quite expected.
The image on the canvas showed how Cedric safely hovered over the middle of the lake, looked around, estimating something by eye, and then took a knife from the sheath on his shin, and transfigured it into a cobblestone. Heavy, apparently—even the broom swayed, and it was clearly not easy for the guy to hold it, pressing it to himself. Another wave of the wand, and Cedric cast a Bubble-Head Charm. A moment—and he just falls head down into the lake, while holding the cobblestone.
"Phenomenal!!!" Bagman rejoiced. "Thus the Hogwarts champion will reach the goal faster than anyone! But let's pay attention to what our other dear champions are busy with!"
And they swam. They knew the direction, but they had to follow along the bottom so as not to lose this very direction—due to cloudy weather it was only possible to distinguish up and down while under water.
Here various living creatures began to catch the champions' eyes. Krum turned out to be quite cunning—generally no one from the lake inhabitants wanted to collide with the huge mouth of a great white shark. So the Durmstrang champion overcame the distance to the goal without any problems, only sometimes changing course to swim over or around thickets of long algae. In books, by the way, it was written that merpeople arranged whole algae farms at the bottom there, and safely grow the most different types of them.
Fleur looked damn purposeful. She could be compared to a kind of icebreaker—I see the goal, I see no obstacles. She came across all sorts of thickets, algae, water demons and other crap on the way, but she brushed them off with various charms and spells, continuing to swim forward with amazing determination and without a single sign of worry. Each of her spells, each maneuver was perceived by the audience with huge enthusiasm, encouraging shouts and applause. Of course, mainly only guys.
And Cedric? And he is almost at the bottom. Thanks to this, I, albeit through the screen opposite the stands, could see my beloved self. The picture is as follows. The central square of the underwater town, everywhere small dome-shaped houses and other oval architecture, slightly overgrown with underwater vegetation. In the middle of the square stands a huge statue of a merman with a spear. And to this statue three bodies in clothes are tied. Breathless, motionless, hair fluttering in different directions. Cho, Hermione and me. Quite strange to see yourself, but by feelings, not to have a physical center, embodiment, so to speak.
Cedric transfigured the cobblestone back into a knife and froze opposite us. Looking at me, he shook his head and began to saw the algae holding Cho—the vegetation yielded reluctantly. Merpeople began to appear around, but they did not interfere, but simply swam in circles at a distance, but in the visibility zone. Some of them held tridents in their hands. By the way, I experienced slight disappointment even at the stage of studying lake life from books—they are not beautiful, and not women in their upper half. They only look like people in that they have a similar chest, but made of fish bones, two arms and a head having some common features with primates. A pity—aesthetically it would be more pleasant if they corresponded to legends.
Cedric quickly sawed through the algae and went up with the help of a spell. Went quickly. Hope he won't get decompression sickness—the depth is not small, pressure, all that.
"Mr. Diggory, Hogwarts champion, coped with the task in fifteen minutes!!!" Bagman broke his voice. "Magnificent! You can see him climbing onto the broom waiting for him above the water, and with him his loss—Miss Cho Chang! We see that she came to her senses and feels great! But how are the other two champions doing?"
Krum is doing fine—only the giant squid living in our lake won't be afraid of his shark mug. Good thing his participation in the competition is not provided.
Fleur had a hard time, but she also coped, gradually scaring away the animals attacking her. This living creature seemed to decide to recoup on the girl because of fear of Krum, like: "We certainly won't fear the blonde!". Well, and systematically received magical beatings.
Time passed. They are long. Very long. Cedric has already returned to the shore, he, like Cho, was safely wrapped in a bunch of towels and blankets, began to be given potions to drink. Fans rejoiced, a couple of friends clapped on shoulders, Cho's friends crowded around the Chinese girl, and she is all so saved that it even becomes cloying.
Time passed. Since there were no champions nearby yet, I couldn't look at myself either. But Krum quickly corrected the situation. Quickly, and not for long. This man-jaw swiftly swam to us, grabbed the algae holding Hermione with his mouth and wanted to tear it, the algae, not Hermione... In general, tear with teeth and "on inertia". The algae broke Krum off, and at the same time he palpably pulled my sister. I already imagined punishing the Quidditch dimwit, but he, to his happiness, remembered that he still has a knife, and did not make a second, and then a third attempt to tear the algae with teeth. Quickly sawing off this absurdly durable product of local flora, Krum grabbed Hermione and swam up. Live. But you are stupid—I'll tell my sister so. Let her look for a smart one, or she'll suffer. Intelligence, it is a necessary thing, and for a wizard—vital.
Fleur arrived last, but, according to the clock on the shore, fit into the time. With a stern and concentrated face, she cut the algae with a spell. Personally, I was disturbed that the lake animals, all the same water demons and other octopuses, decided to pursue the Veela to the bitter end—she brought them on her tail. I thought that merpeople and mermen would undertake something, but no—the cursed fish hummed something and rejoiced.
Fleur wrapped one arm around me, and with the second, holding the wand, began to fight off the pressing Grindylows—there were only more and more of them. Not an hour, they will eat us—these creatures trade in this.
"It seems the Beauxbatons champion has got into a difficult situation!" Bagman broadcasted.
The crowd stirred excitedly and gasped. One of the spiders saw other champions and Hermione tense up. My sister, literally just got out on the shore with Krum and now, wrapped in towels and blankets like some larva, looked with obvious excitement at the canvas in the air, where only Fleur's image remained, and everything around teemed with water demons.
Funny, but the presence of a Veela by my side, and even tightly pressing me to herself, awakened certain instincts in the body. Since all this is a product of magic, the sensations began to break through into consciousness, immediately beginning to establish "feedback" with the body. This was enough for me to concentrate and splash out a sea of magic around my body, accompanying with a visual and semantic message "stun everyone who is not Fleur".
On the canvas it was visible how a powerful shock wave seemed to disperse around us—the deformation boundary was clearly visible, as in a ground explosion. All life around was covered with tiny flashes of electricity and began to float belly up. Except for Fleur and me. The girl looked at me bewilderedly, clearly realizing where the help came from, but did not delay—began to surface with me with the help of a spell.
Cold wind hit the face. Splashes, noise of water, cold. An attempt to inhale almost ended in unplanned quenching of thirst, but I coped. Simultaneously with this, as if cut off connection with spiders, but I knew that these are just sensations.
Without saying unnecessary words, Fleur and I swam to the shore.
Going ashore was very difficult, but until we came out at least knee-deep, no one rushed to help. It seemed to me as if I had been in space for a couple of hours, and then I was abruptly teleported to a planet—gravity is fabulous. Fleur couldn't walk at all, she was falling to the side, and I immediately picked her up.
Cheerful orchestral music immediately began to play on the shore, Bagman yelled something, but I, after being under water, and even with a body disconnected from waking consciousness, adapted to changes with difficulty. Sure that if consciousness fell into hibernation, like the body, I would not experience such problems, but we have, as they say, what we have.
A couple of wizards in lime robes rushed to us, immediately starting to cast spells and check health. Only now did I notice a couple of traces on open areas of Fleur's skin—clearly burns from suction cups of all sorts of underwater creatures. Hermione also showed herself, almost immediately appearing nearby and throwing both a robe and a towel on me, and generally... Fleur, actually, underwent similar procedures, only from other people.
"How are you?" my sister asked with concern, and she herself still with wet hair, in a robe and a bunch of towels. "Frozen?"
"Nah, normal," I smiled, but, it seems, a little crookedly. "But thanks."
"Well, how else!" she smiled.
Noise, din around, but I didn't delve into it.
"When Professor McGonagall told me that I would be in the role of a hostage..." Hermione began to speak, immediately causing a bunch of questions in me, "I was so surprised, and even so many charms. Under water. It was exciting. But in the end I didn't remember anything. Once—and that's it."
"And they didn't tell me anything. Tried to hit immediately," I shook my head, helping Fleur to stand.
"Can't be! The professor told me everything and herself, alone, cast charms, having received consent."
"Amusing."
"And you?"
"And no one will ask me how I am doing?" Delacour smirked.
"So it is visible that excellent," Hermione waved it off.
"And how are you doing?"
"Neck hurts," with a tearful expression on her face she pointed to the neck, where a burn in the form of tentacles flaunted.
And all this despite close care by other wizards. Was I surprised when Daphne broke through to us? A little. Usually she does not show emotions in public, and in my presence—bright emotions. A matter of time of course. Personally, it was even pleasant for me to see concern on her face.
"How are you?" she asked immediately.
Wizards bustled around us closely, but this is the norm—other champions and their "hostages" were met exactly the same way.
"Not bad. Miss Delacour wants a kiss for saving," I smirked.
Daphne immediately kissed her on the forehead, causing shock on her face.
"Compensate later," Daphne smirked. "Will visit later."
"And what do I have to do with it?" squeaked indignant Pansy, whom I did not notice in the crowd and whom, it turns out, Daphne dragged on a tow. A moment, and they fluttered somewhere.
"She is strange," Hermione concluded. "And you are well done. Coped well."
"With the role of a weak-willed doll under water? Then you didn't lag behind me either."
Quite quickly all this whirl of responsible wizards died down, and we, rescuers and rescued, lined up in front of the judges' table. Why hostages were needed there too—only Merlin knows, but as said, so we do. Dumbledore, it turns out, already managed to step aside, climb knee-deep into the lake and talk with the appeared leader of merpeople. This impudent fish with a crown on her head even had her own retinue. Why impudent? Just a small residual dissatisfaction of a teenager who found himself in a difficult situation and who was not helped, although they could.
Dumbledore returned to the table, showed with a gesture for fans to quiet down, but they didn't understand. As a result, the Headmaster put his wand to his throat and his thunderous: "Quie-e-et!!!" spread over the surface of the lake. And silence.
"So, the third place, with an insignificant difference of one point, is taken by... Miss Delacour, Beauxbatons champion!"
The audience burst into applause, supporting the Veela, who stood embarrassed next to me.
"Miss Delacour showed mastery of various charms and spells, and, a banal accident, a coincidence of circumstances, did not allow her to get ahead of Mr. Krum. Forty-two points!"
And applause again.
"Congratulations," I whispered quietly to the girl.
"Didn't turn out so well."
"Could be worse. Water—is completely-completely not your element."
Fleur looked at me with suspicion in blue eyes.
"Second place—Durmstrang champion, Viktor Krum."
Audience support sounded much harsher. Seems guys finally returned to supporting the idol, and not the Veela. Understandable, got used a little, and now, in robes and towels, the Veela did not cause that admiration.
"Mr. Krum showed logic and foresight," Dumbledore continued to broadcast, "using frightening partial transfiguration, thereby scaring away life in the lake and passing part of the obstacles without even reaching them. But, there were minuses too. Forty-three points."
Another shaft of applause, shouts, sounds of crackers and other things rolled over the lake.
"And the first place... Cedric Diggory, Hogwarts champion!" the Headmaster announced.
Here Cedric was supported really loudly—ours are simply more.
"Mr. Diggory showed intelligence, ingenuity, resourcefulness, and most importantly—knowledge of not the most complex, but necessary spells capable of turning the situation upside down, gaining an advantage. Forty-seven points!"
Jubilation, joy, jubilation again. And so it continued until we reached Hogwarts. There, in a calmer atmosphere, when many hurried to the Great Hall, and not somewhere else, not to common rooms or library, I with a clear conscience threw off the robe and towels, applied various household charms to myself. Dried, put myself in order, transfigured a robe, and all this standing in the Entrance Hall.
"Hmm..." Hermione, still with wet hair and wrapped in robes and towels, looked at me with slight bewilderment. "And I didn't think about that."
"About magic?"
"Well yeah."
"It happens. Help?"
"No, I myself," she shook her head negatively. "I'll go to my place, to the common room. Are you sure everything is fine with you? Maybe to Madam Pomfrey?"
"No, Mione, everything is excellent."
My sister ran away to her place. Durmstrang students remained on the ship. French—in the carriage. What to do? Will go to the Great Hall—almost everyone went there. Suddenly will tell something interesting.
The Great Hall was indeed full of students chaotically wandering between tables—everyone sat as they wanted, no division by houses. Well, unless Slytherins showed minimal hospitality, and few of them hurried to other tables.
At our table active congratulation of Cedric was going on—he was not only the center of attention, but also the center of the crowd. Around our prefect sat and stood, congratulating in every possible way, smiling, and generally. He himself accepted congratulations with a joyful face, hugging Cho Chang with one hand, who continued to be "all so saved, dear mother". As soon as I approached, it was my classmates who first paid attention to me... And last. For the rest I am just a guy from the house, albeit quite significant and prominent, which means there is no single reason to be distracted from Cedric.
"How are you?" Justin immediately inquired, next to whom I sat down.
"Yeah normal."
"You know, I was very surprised that it was you who became a hostage."
"Oh, believe me, friend," I clapped the guy on the shoulder. "I was surprised no less than you."
"Understandable," Hannah nodded with a smile. "Relatives came to Delacour. Her little sister is there, sweetest girl. They happily spent all the time. It was very strange that it was you who disappeared."
"That's what I'm talking about."
"...if not for Hector..." Cedric's words reached me, and here, as in a scary movie, the whole house, and guys in uniforms of other colors, turned to me as one. "I wouldn't have coped."
"What are you saying," Cho reproached him. "You did everything."
"And the whole plan of quick rescue was developed by Hector," Cedric smiled at her. "So a tangible share of success—is his handiwork. Right?"
Cedric looked at me, and I could only shrug.
"You decide. The plan may be mine, but the performer—is you. A bad performer will screw up any excellent plan. The reverse is also true."
"Exactly!" someone confirmed the words, and everyone turned to Cedric again.
"Hmm... And you are modest," Hannah smiled. "Modesty adorns. But not a man."
"Depends on circumstances..." in the head by itself it was remembered how I checked the condition and presence of lower "ninety" simultaneously in two girls. "Not so modest am I."
"O-o-oh!" Hannah noticed something like that in my face. "Demand details."
"Not my secret."
"Well how so?" Susan pouted offendedly, adoring to pretend to be a rag and listen, listen, listen. And then speak, speak, speak, but only to a member of the "Hogwarts Grapevine" club, or simply put—everyone in a skirt.
"And like this."
Gatherings in the Great Hall, discussion of everything in a row, but mainly only feats of champions from the category: "And he is like Whoo-o-osh, and she—Fiuuu, and he—Wo-o-ow!!!", all this lasted until the announcement of lunch—at this moment all students quickly dispersed to the tables of their houses. Seems in extracurricular time everyone doesn't care who sits where. In principle, I repeatedly noticed Gryffindors at the Slytherin table, Ravens—visiting lions, and so on.
After lunch many decided to disperse about their business, leaving in the Great Hall only those who cannot live without a large and noisy company in a no less large and noisy room. I headed to the library. Or rather, should have stopped by the Headmaster—he promised admission for all my suffering.
At a turn in one of the corridors I fell into sudden and cruel captivity of girlish embraces, and immediately I was dragged around this corner.
"Daphne."
"Hector."
The girl clearly decided not to restrain herself from committing all sorts of stupidities, which we indulged in for at least a minute. Only I felt familiar magic literally two steps away, in the corridor from where I came.
"Someone is there," breaking the kiss, I nodded towards sensations.
"It's Pansy. Watching so that no one, in no way, and under no pretext."
"I see."
"You owe me a couple more kisses."
"Really?"
"Exactly," Daphne nodded, leaning. "For the fact that I kissed Delacour instead of you."
"In the forehead."
"In the forehead," nodded again this impudent, as it turns out, brunette. "And this is already very much. Or she thought up, cunning Veela, kisses to her."
"Are you going to kiss every girl who covets me?"
Daphne smiled slyly, and clearly planned a dirty trick, and not now, but sometime later—this was directly readable in the look.
"Oh, no. And generally," Daphne hugged me by the neck, breathing into my ear. "You saw me in... let it be, negligee."
"Didn't see," I whispered the same way, which caused slight goosebumps on the girl's body. One-zero. I—am in a tank. "But you understand, genius of transfiguration, good imagination, spatial thinking..."
"Not customary to whisper such things into the ear."
"Will you teach?"
"Will teach."
"And who will teach you?"
"Pansy?"
"This sounds strange and ambiguous."
We pulled away slightly, looking at each other.
"As a guy—I'm for. As Hector Granger—categorically against. Will learn from each other on our own experience."
"Ahem-ahem," senile cough sounded from the side.
We sharply recoiled from each other and turned to the sound. Nearby stood the Headmaster smirking into his beard and sparkling with half-moon glasses.
"Eh, youth, wonderful time," Dumbledore declaimed with laughter in his voice. "Mr. Granger. Here."
The Headmaster held out a parchment with signatures and so on to me.
"Hm?"
"Yes, Mr. Granger, this is your admission."
"Daphne!" Pansy flew around the corner, clearly wanting to say something. "There... Oh. Here too."
"Miss Parkinson," the Headmaster smirked. "You should brush up on your skills in installing scanning and signal charms."
"Yes, Headmaster," Pansy nodded humbly.
The Headmaster, smiling, went somewhere about his business, humming an unknown melody under his nose.
"Daphne!" Pansy instantly appeared next to her friend. "There!.. And here... Here!"
"And simpler?"
"Dispersing, in short! Atas!"
"Where are your manners, Miss Parkinson?" I was feignedly surprised.
"To Mordred manners—we slept in the same bed," she hissed, blushing at the same time. "Snape wishes to see everyone in the common room. Even yesterday. A bird flew to me."
Pansy showed a paper origami bird. At this we quickly said goodbye, and I went to the library, encouraged by several events at once. The admission, by the way, was not simple—there was a list number of books that I can read. Apparently, this list lies with Madam Pince. Well, long live the new stage in personal development? To storm the Restricted Section?
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