The Restricted Section, the Special Section—it's called by various names, but the essence is the same.
A small section of the library compared to the main halls, with only one entrance, which is also the exit. There weren't that many books here, but each one looked unique in its own way and even intimidating. Some books were under closed glass covers of display cases, some on special stands. Almost all books were chained to their places in the cabinets by special chains—small, thin, long enough so that the book could be taken and studied immediately at the table in front of the cabinet. But I don't think these chains are easy to break.
Unfortunately, until I reach the seventh year of study, I cannot take any book for study, even with a permit. The list of books available to me was limited to literature recommended by Snape and Dumbledore, and I am not eager to indulge my curiosity and touch the forbidden, although it is interesting.
First on the list were books on maleficism—I started with them. Ordinary-looking, but clearly ancient, with leather bindings and it's unclear whose skin it is. Studying these books began to fascinate me, although there is a sea of water there. Besides the fact that you have to try to perceive information in rather old English with an admixture of Latin and French, in each book too large a share of the text went to various praises of this discipline or vice versa—attempts to intimidate with dangers. But from the point of view of cognition, it was really interesting. Not only the magic of curses itself, but its perception by wizards of those times, attitude towards it, because any sorcery is embodied one way or another through the mental, through thoughts, images, desires, intentions and so on.
February ended almost imperceptibly—well, there were only a couple of days left after the second task. March came, dry and windy. This dryness was felt everywhere and in everything—even the dungeons of the castle, where both ordinary Potions lessons and individual ones took place, even here it became dryish. Outside, not a trace remained of the past winter, except for gloomy emptiness, undecomposed last year's dry grass and plants, and so on. The Forbidden Forest remained just as gloomy, but the reflection of the sky in the Black Lake no longer gave our reservoir leaden heaviness and gloom.
Professors slowed down the pace of study, allowing us to relax a little. Only this did not apply to fifth and seventh years—there the load on the guys only increased, making students gradually more and more gloomy and dull. With the guys from the house, we still spent time in an unused classroom several times a week—this became a tradition. Tea, sweets, magazines, practice in magic and exchange of experience—inevitable elements of such gatherings, allowing both to study and just spend time together. Once Justin even had a thought to invite someone else into this narrow circle, but we all quite quickly abandoned such a thing—didn't want to destroy the established comfort zone.
"No, well look, huh?" Hannah resented once at such gatherings, leafing through a magazine from another stack "for the past days" together with Susan.
"What is it?" Ernie immediately appeared nearby, and all of us, abandoning the practice of spells according to the program.
"Well this concerns Hector more, but nevertheless," Hannah moved the magazine across the table to the edge where I stood.
Taking the magazine in my hands, I began to read aloud:
"Blah-blah-blah, talented, according to rumors, Muggle-born brother and sister Grangers... Blah-blah-blah... Paving their way in life, being not devoid of ambitions... Viktor Krum, star-champion-and-other-regalia, admitted that he never felt anything like this towards anyone except Hermione Granger. So... And what's here?.. Aha, here's about me. Charmed with a cute smile the French champion and talented witch from Beauxbatons."
"There's more further on," Hannah smirked.
"Yeah, I see," I nodded with a smile. "Mandy Brocklehurst, a capable beyond her years Ravenclaw student says that the Grangers do not possess any outstanding external data..."
"Pff-ff-ff," the guys snorted loudly and it's unclear, from white envy or mockery of this phrase.
"Yeah-yeah," Hannah rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "That's why everyone stared at you and Hermione at the ball, uh-huh. From disgust, probably, couldn't look away."
"...however," I continued reading, "they are both smart enough. For example, Hermione Granger is very good at Potions, and it cannot be ruled out that the success of both is connected with a Love Potion. Hmm..."
Tearing my gaze away from the article, I looked at the guys, who, like me, smiled at such a twist.
"Love potion for the sake of love potion—is for losers," I stated weightily. "Don't think I'll ever need it at all, only if for sale."
"Ideally yes," Hannah nodded. "True, there are stories that various love potions were created not at all to cause love or seduce someone. Although, it would be more correct to say, such is the goal of many generations of potion makers, a kind of Grail or Philosopher's Stone."
"Yeah, only the latter was managed to be created," Ernie nodded. "And a full-fledged love potion—is just a dream. So they also have a bunch of different side effects."
"For example?" I became interested in this topic, because in Potions the topic of love potions has not yet been touched upon.
"Well..." Ernie drawled thoughtfully. "For example... For example, the effect of such potions depends on the person."
"Meaning?" Justin didn't understand, and I could only assume so far.
"Look," Ernie sat at the table, and Justin, Zacharias and I followed his example. "If a person is an inveterate romantic, then the effect of the same Amortentia—let's take the strongest potion—will consist precisely in romance. In dreams, in all sorts of hugs, flowers, only the degree of this madness will be... Absurdly huge. If love in a person's understanding—is kisses and so on, then hell you'll get rid of him, of such a person. Everything that will interest him and everything that he will try to do—kisses and so on. I think it's not worth talking about those for whom love..."
Ernie blushed slightly.
"...Lies in bed."
Now the others blushed too.
"And if a person is a sadist, a maniac?" Ernie, who suppressed the blush and pulled himself together, looked at us seriously. "Will torture with special care and love, while preserving both your sanity and life, so that torture can be eternal. Potion makers say that this is connected with people's dependence on receiving pleasure and, accordingly, on what you get pleasure through, associating it with love."
"Competently put," Justin smirked. "Unexpected even."
"I'm not stupid," Ernie resented feignedly. "Just an occasion rarely comes up. To show intelligence. There."
"But there are also weaker options, saw a description of some," I decided to continue the topic.
"There are, but the essence remains about the same. Only proportions change. There are potions causing desire for intimacy of varying degrees, and here they are the most popular. True, that Amortentia, that similar potions in their strong modification, are under strict distribution restriction. Recent Ministry law, maybe twenty years old, thirty, no more."
Justin was a little surprised by Ernie's words, immediately deciding to clarify the moment that interested him.
"And why then are weak ones not taken under control either? This is, one way or another, forced influence on the mind."
"How should I know?" Ernie shrugged. "Someone seemed to say that there is no point in this. Like, well... The effect of weak and medium love potions is similar to the effect of just a handsome and decent wizard or a beautiful witch. Like, worthy wizards and witches are attractive anyway, and if such potions are banned, then maybe it's worth banning looking good too... In general, some such conversations. By the way, they still exist in the Ministry. Conversations, I mean. It may happen that weak potions will be put under control in a couple of years, as well as their sellers."
"Hmm..." I thought. "And could it be that really strong wizards are interested in such potions?"
"Meaning?" Hannah leaned forward a little, and I returned the magazine to her.
"Well, if we take as truth that strong wizards, strong precisely in mind, are less susceptible to carnal desires, then they may well be interested in... Kindle the bonfire of love to the skies."
"Ha-ha-ha," the blushing guys laughed. "You say too! Bonfire of Love!"
"Flame of passion!" Justin echoed, chuckling.
As soon as this short fit of laughter passed, behind which embarrassment and confusion were hidden, Hannah, wiping a non-existent tear, looked at me with a smirk.
"Yes, this can indeed be so. Especially if the marriage is strictly by calculation and without much respect. Or, for example, when one of the spouses is very strong, and the other is not. But this is strictly the business of each individual family and each individual wizard. Usually such potions are not used for the purpose of harming or seducing. Can, of course, slip it here too, at Hogwarts, but this is a very dubious and unreasonable act."
"Yes?"
"Well so what's the point?" Hannah smirked as only she can, unintentionally demonstrating some neglect, but only her type is to blame for this. "The effect of all potions is temporary, won't last a day. Can't do anything in the castle. Really strong potions still need to be obtained, and it is still unclear who you will make worse by slipping it to someone. Ernie, here, talked about this. You can get such love that memories will throw into a sweat until the grave. And weak ones... Hmm..."
"The point of slipping such to us?" Ernie shrugged, calling attention to himself. "And what? Well here you slipped a potion for, hee-hee, flame of passion, and the victim is inexperienced. Looks at you, feels strange, wants something specifically from you, but what—has no idea. For the victim is inexperienced."
Ernie instructively raised his index finger, like: "Like that!".
"And if the victim is experienced?" Susan decided to participate in the conversation.
"Well, if you believe all the same conversations," Ernie thought. "Then it turns out that if the victim is experienced, then the effect will differ little if the victim simply met a guy or a girl of the desired type. Well, and, of course, from weak and medium potions you don't lose your head, although I can't say for sure myself. Surely under their influence there will be enough mind to figure out that something is happening for a reason. And if there is no mind even for this... Well what, serves you right."
"Tough position," I smiled. "If a fool—then your fate is to be a victim."
"And why not?" Ernie was surprised. "Parents say that in life everything is exactly like that and without any potions. And potions—are just another pit on the road of life into which you can fall due to your stupidity."
"So what, can all potions be resisted?"
"Of course not!" Susan resented before anyone had time to say anything. "The same Veritaserum—impossible to overcome. Although..."
Susan was embarrassed again and thought.
"...Strictly theoretically, any effect can be overcome. But theory is one thing, and practice is another."
Later, closer to the end of March, I clarified the question with love potions, having read a bunch of articles on them. Indeed, they work approximately as Ernie said, and love itself, that unknown ephemeral feeling, which is a combination of a huge number of different factors, reactions and processes—is truly the Grail of potion making, an unattainable thing. Passion, attraction or something else—is not a problem. But love... I think the point is that magic, like ordinary science, is to some extent based on observing processes and phenomena, on trying to describe them by known methods, fit them into available methods and schemes, and then—use for their own purposes. But true love is not something that is so easy to research—it, for a start, generally needs to be fixed as a phenomenon. And this is a very individual feeling for everyone, complicated and complex, but the main thing—it is different for everyone. Probably, that's why there is no certain ideal love potion.
Classes with Snape went much softer than during the recent "test" of mine and Daphne's aspirations in potion making. Softer, but tougher than when only on Saturday there were additional potions. Snape, having received carte blanche for ingredients and training program, took us on with enthusiasm, and the main thing—we did not let him down. Here is a banal example of this enthusiasm—demonstration of simple master-level potions. It would seem, what is there—brew according to the recipe, and correct the process a little if necessary. And it turns out that a master potion differs from a student one, even ideally brewed according to the recipe, like heaven and earth.
As classes progressed, Snape explained to us his attitude to the Hogwarts curriculum imposed by the Ministry, and especially—on potions. This program implies what school should do for students—it gave a base. Teaching basics, working with various ingredients, basic nuances of their interaction and ability to brew according to a recipe. Only these recipes—are for super-beginners, and the prefix "super" is not used in a positive sense here. One can complicate the process, use slightly different ingredients, cheaper or more expensive, cook faster and get a much better result. Mainly, by the way, the process only gets complicated, cooking speed increases, and ingredients become more expensive.
"But one must understand," Snape said then, sitting at his table in front of us, "that the increase in the cost of ingredients should at least slightly correspond to the improvement in the quality of potions. No one needs a potion for pimples costing as much as a good house."
"And can't you make a potion cheaper, but harder?" I decided not to restrain curiosity.
"Often—no," Snape shook his head negatively. "The cheapest recipes are already given in textbooks. The cheapest, the longest and the simplest, so that the student could master the most non-optimal, but reliable and simplest way to obtain a potion with at least some significant specified effect."
"Hmm... That is, when a student, say, Weasley, cannot brew a potion according to the recipe, it turns out he ruins the simplest potion."
"Exactly," Snape nodded, hiding indignation.
"Still, Professor, it would be good for you to teach at some university, or engage in science among colleagues."
"When you grow up and invent a university. Only focus on the international level, otherwise nothing but a tiny private school will turn out. There are too few wizards, and those wishing to continue education after school, and on a general basis—even fewer."
"That's sad," Daphne drawled, stirring her potion in the cauldron—I have a break between cooking phases, that's why I talk.
"And I hoped that somewhere something exists."
"No, Mr. Granger. If education is taken as a market of paid services, then exactly the same applies to this market as to others—demand creates supply. To me, as a professor, a master of a couple of directions, some official information is available."
Snape folded his hands in a lock, resting his elbows on the table.
"On average, almost all Hogwarts graduates one way or another continue to improve in magic after school. However, only about ten percent do not have the opportunity to receive adequate education independently or through the family."
"Muggle-borns?"
"No, Mr. Granger. There are much fewer Muggle-borns, even if they are included in this percentage. Often such graduates go to various Ministry structures, to the Auror Office, DMLE or as a hired worker in private business. Work in the Ministry requires some very small set of skills and knowledge, differing from department to department, plus a couple of subjects... of a Muggle nature. All this is organized by the Ministry and this educational program even with a complete absence of even rudiments of intelligence is passed in a year."
"Something like an internship with a little material on the profession?"
"Yes. More serious education requires DMLE and Auror Office. Both in the form of grades and in the form of preparation. Here there is already a semblance of a university program, but rather just a college. Professions are quite popular among those whose families do not have a precise guideline for development, or if the young wizard himself is inclined to such. The rest, one way or another, can get an education at home due to family knowledge, or due to tutors."
"And people of science? Surely there are such."
"There are. For those who yearn to move magical science forward, develop independently, but again, do not have for one reason or another, the opportunity to gnaw this granite independently or at the expense of the family—Department of Mysteries. Not counting lower-level employees from the category of fetch-carry, there are seasoned bisons in all magical disciplines, their narrow specializations and so on. But, again, not everyone yearns to end up in semi-bondage of the state. Although personally I see absolutely no difference—we depend on someone one way or another. Watch your potion, Mr. Granger."
"Yes, indeed," I nodded at everything at once and started the second stage.
So the training went.
Regarding the social part of Hogwarts life—gradually everything came to naught. Students finally got used to the fact of the existence of foreign guests, and those, to some extent, joined the team. People got used to the fact that a world-scale Quidditch star walks in the school, or one single Veela for the whole Hogwarts—even her aura ceased to cause the proper effect. Provided, of course, that Delacour controls herself. Even the Tournament ceased to be the main topic for conversation, and yet for its sake they started to do something with the Quidditch pitch. But what about our ideas about a small match that never materialized? That's exactly what I asked Cedric once in the common room—one way or another, but it was he who turned out to be the connecting link between our wants and Ministry workers.
We were just standing at the entrance to the castle and saw the Quidditch pitch, on which these very workers were doing something.
"That's probably why they refused assistance," Cedric looked at what was happening with slight dissatisfaction. "Knew that safety charms for the match would interfere with their work later. That's why they didn't say exactly what charms are needed. And teachers kept silent."
"Sad. Won't play with Krum."
"Yes even if it worked out, don't think it would be really interesting."
"Really?"
"Yes, Hector. Don't forget, Krum—is part of a team. Without a team, he will, of course, remain a good Seeker, but in a good team a Seeker doesn't just hang over the field, but takes an active part, and tactics take him into account. Like you, by the way," Cedric looked at me. "You are an excellent player due to your abilities and skills, and will be equally good in any position."
"Except Seeker."
"Yes..." the prefect smiled. "It was an absurd game."
"Every game will be like that if I am a Seeker."
"So here. Excellent player, but without a team—just an excellent player."
"Without a team I could win, being a Seeker," I smiled already.
"Ha-ha, that's for sure."
So the match is unlikely to be. Maybe later, after the Tournament, but time will be clearly little—not for nothing matches do not start immediately in the school year, because preparing the field takes time, and this field, it seems, is being prepared for the third task. And it is unknown yet what they will pile up there and how long it will take to put the field in order. A pity.
With Daphne everything remained at about the same level, but it is understandable. If we were in the same house, we would have much more time when we would see each other outside classes and outside personal "training events", be it training or just homework. Whether me or her are part of our houses, and, one way or another, spend quite a lot of time with classmates or other guys, and Daphne also with her sister. Due to various circumstances, it is difficult to bring our companies into one—need a more serious reason than the wants of two students, not really demonstrating any relationships in public. But at times we stealthily seized moments for "stupidities", albeit infrequently, and for gatherings in the library—but there no longer alone, but in the presence of one or two classmates. Pansy became a kind of tail of Daphne, trying one way or another, but to be present nearby when we spend time together. It seems to me, Parkinson is watching us. Not like an overseer, but like a stalker.
Here came the time for Easter holidays, and with them came April. Technically, one could go home for these holidays, but no one did this—here and Hogsmeade, and trips there, and guests from other schools. Even if they were no longer some curiosity, but not to complete indifference, and the very fact of a week of days off one way or another hinted at some events, and no one intended to miss at least a drop of these events. Even the smallest rumor had to be fresh. That's why everyone stayed. I stayed too.
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