Two friends, Daphne and Pansy, were dragging their belongings through the train corridors without much enthusiasm, sincerely wishing to find a free compartment.
"You took too long to get ready," Parkinson quietly complained, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face. "P-f... P-f... Darn it. And slept too long."
"I was impressed by what happened," Daphne replied dryly, looking into an open compartment—occupied. "Slept badly."
"Exactly. Could have woken up earlier and packed in advance. I'm not sure we didn't forget something."
School trunks were not the most convenient items to transport, but both Daphne's and Pansy's parents refused to buy much more convenient and spacious bags or anything like that. There was even an explanation—a good incentive to train in charms. Pansy, of course, enchanted a bag for herself and her friend, which she was proud of—Undetectable Extension Charm is quite complex. But they put only the most necessary and fragile things there. For example, a large pot with a bush of ice roses—a gradually growing gift to Daphne from Hector.
Entering the next car, Daphne looked into the first open compartment she came across and froze, causing Pansy to almost crash into her and the trunk she was dragging behind her.
"What's up?"
"Hmm..." Daphne looked thoughtfully into the compartment, gradually breaking into a smile.
Of course, Pansy couldn't ignore such a thing, and also looked inside.
"Should have guessed," Parkinson chuckled, looking at the sleeping Hector. "We're going in. The best option possible."
The girls quickly entered the compartment and locked the door—you never know, what if someone thinks there's room here? Hector occupied the entire compartment on one side, and the girls, who were not traveling from Hogwarts for the first time, knew perfectly well that a maximum of two people could sit on one side of the compartment for the trip to be comfortable. Of course, more people can fit in a compartment—eight at maximum, four on one side, four on the other. But any comfort and freedom of movement can be forgotten.
Placing the trunks under the seats, the girls settled more comfortably, and, without saying a word, stared at the large black bird sleeping in a nest made of a yellow-black Hufflepuff scarf. It was obvious that this was still a very young chick. Neither Pansy nor Daphne could classify it as any animal species known to them.
"And where did he get this little miracle?" Pansy leaned forward, folding her arms on the table and looking almost closely at the bird.
"I don't even know who it is," Daphne looked at the bird with no less interest.
The train started moving. Hector didn't even move, continuing to sleep. But the bird opened one eye, staring at the girls.
"Cutie," Pansy smiled, and shifted her gaze to Daphne. "And why are you sitting?"
"Meaning?" Daphne tore herself away from looking at the sleeping Hector. "And what else should I do?"
"Well so... Look, your prince."
Pansy is not the first time trying to tease her friend in every possible way because of the object of her interest. Not for everyone this interest is obvious, but Pansy knows exactly how strong this interest is, because the girls have been friends for years, and simply cannot hide something so global from each other.
"Daphne," Pansy sighed, looking at her friend, who did not take her eyes off the sleeping Hector's face. "You should be more... lively. Yes. Exactly so. Otherwise some more decisive witch will take him away."
"For example?" Daphne finally turned to Pansy, and her sly smile made Pansy blush for some unknown reason—either from embarrassment or indignation. "Who? Maybe you?"
"Yeah, right!.." Pansy was indignant, abruptly staring at the bird. "Are there few daring witches in Hog? Look, if you listen carefully, there aren't many like you, with morals there."
Daphne sighed, but did not stop smiling.
"It's already hard for me... To be myself at least a little."
"Tsk... Raised, damn it," Pansy sighed. "Ice in the eyes, fire in the heart."
Daphne chuckled and moved to the other side where Hector was sleeping. Sitting on the edge of the seat, she not very boldly touched the guy's hand, paying no attention to how the black phoenix watched what was happening with one eye.
"I try," Daphne said quietly. "I'm very afraid to make a mistake. Do something... Wrong."
"Yeah, for example, completely forget that you have a boyfriend, getting carried away with studies and potions, and in the evening toss and turn in bed for two hours, suddenly remembering that you wanted to talk to him in the morning. Or take a walk at lunch. Or sit together in the library in the evening," Pansy listed all those thoughts and plans that Daphne built with her, "or..."
"Yes, I understood."
"And this one is no better. This on schedule, that on schedule. Meetings on schedule. You will get me one day, I will feed you potions. And generally, wake him up come on. You won't see each other until September."
"Hmm..."
Daphne continued to look thoughtfully and with a slight smile at the face of the sleeping Hector. Pansy waited and waited, and sighed dejectedly, rolling her eyes.
"What do you think," Daphne looked at her friend, pondering whether to stroke the bird or not. "Did he really return?"
"I think we'll find out about this at home."
"And what should be expected?"
"For you?" Pansy looked at Daphne with a smirk. "I'm sure your parents will spend the whole summer conducting various educational activities so that you don't approach Hector a step. Get ready, girlfriend. You will have a hard holiday."
"And you?"
"And what me? I'm not dating him."
"Think they know at home?"
"Think not? Everyone knows everything. And if they don't know, then your sister definitely reports everything. Out of best intentions."
"She is like that..." Daphne smiled. "Okay, you're right. Won't see each other until September."
Daphne leaned over Hector for a kiss, and the guy woke up almost at the same moment, but only opened his eyes and responded to a short kiss.
"Always wake up like this," he smiled as soon as Daphne pulled away. "Wow, and even Parkinson didn't try to interfere."
"Of course!" Pansy showed pride and her own importance, turning up her nose. "I'm a merciful friend."
Daphne got up from her seat so that Hector could sit up, and immediately sat down next to him.
"Well, ladies, tell me," Hector rubbed his eyes with one hand, waking up completely. "What are the plans for the summer."
. . . . . .
Honestly, I had forgotten that women are capable of talking... a lot and for a long time. Especially when in a small enclosed space where the only variety is the view outside the window. But, to be honest, such company and conversations didn't bother me in the slightest, and even, on the contrary, relaxed me.
During the trip to London, Daphne, Pansy, and I discussed literally everything—every little thing that happened at Hogwarts. Of course, most of the conversations and theories were about Karkaroff's death and Dumbledore's statement, but quite ordinary topics also found their place.
King's Cross Station, its magical part, met us with crowds of parents meeting their children. I remember last time many parents and children lingered on the platform for quite a long time, communicating with each other. Now, however, many of those whose children study in Slytherin left the platform quite quickly, and looked somewhat tense. Not much, of course, but shadows of apprehension flickered in their gazes.
As soon as I helped Daphne and Pansy with their luggage, their parents immediately appeared next to us on the platform and instantly led them to the fireplaces, flying away. Neither hello nor goodbye. It seems something significant has happened among the local pseudo-aristocracy. But I won't bother with that.
Hermione was waiting for me at the exit from the magical part of the station.
"I thought you managed to get off before me," she smiled, shifting Crookshanks more comfortably.
She had already thrown her things onto a trolley, of which there were about two dozen here.
"Did you decide to get off the train before everyone else?"
"Yeah, it wasn't difficult."
I rolled her trolley into the wall and together we went out to the ordinary part of the station, where many people were bustling and walking back and forth. Not without difficulty, we got out of here, maneuvering between groups of people or singles.
Outside it was cloudy, getting dark, the parking lot was packed with cars, but we found our parents' Range Rover without difficulty—father managed to find a place closer to the exit from the station. Hermione, of course, immediately rushed to them, and I only chuckled, rolling the trolley. Crookshanks barely managed to evacuate from her arms, jumping onto the asphalt, otherwise he risked being crushed—Hermione hugged her father with all her love, not wanting to let him go.
"Hi, Dad," I waved my hand, rolling the trolley to the car. "Open the trunk."
"As soon as I get out, right away," father groaned feignedly, and Hermione let him go, embarrassed. "Phew. I thought that was it, my end would come here."
"Dad!" Hermione was indignant, and began to help me drag her things into the car.
As soon as we sat comfortably in the back seats, father immediately started the car and we drove home. Only now did Hermione notice that I had an improvised nest made of a scarf on my lap, and a phoenix sleeping there. Crookshanks, by the way, completely ignored the existence of the bird. Well, how "ignored"—looked, meowed, and closed his eyes, allowing Hermione to stroke his head.
"What is this?" my sister asked.
"A bird."
"No, that's understandable. But what kind of bird?"
"No idea," I shrugged, and didn't even lie, since the resulting crap definitely doesn't have a name. "When it grows up—we'll see."
"And... Where did you get it?"
"Found it near Hagrid's house."
"Hector."
"Yes?"
Hermione looked at me with a serious gaze.
"Knowing Hagrid, one can say with confidence that this is something dangerous. Otherwise it simply cannot be."
"The Headmaster knows, and he doesn't mind," I used the ultimatum argument against her objections.
"Then okay," Hermione nodded importantly, which made me smile. And father was smiling too—I saw him in the rearview mirror.
"So, children, hold off on the story," he spoke. "When we get home, you'll tell everything."
The road home was not the fastest—had to stand in traffic jams a little, and only after that we left London and drove into our suburb, reaching the house. As soon as we drove up to the garage, I immediately felt that my protection was working. Yes, I haven't put on the bracelet yet that allows casting spells on this territory, and thanks precisely to this action of mine, or rather, inaction, I could accurately feel that casting without a bracelet wouldn't work.
As soon as I crossed the threshold, I immediately smelled homemade food, pastries, roast—my mouth watered instantly. It seems this was reflected on my face, as father chuckled and nodded towards the stairs to the second floor.
"Go upstairs, unpack your things, wash up, and have dinner."
"Uh-huh," I nodded.
At that moment mom came out of the kitchen, smiling.
"Oh, Hermione, Hector, welcome back."
"Mom!" Hermione immediately hurried to hug her tighter.
"Okay-okay," with a smile, mom patted my sister on the head. "I'm glad to see you too."
As soon as Hermione released mom from her embrace, it was my turn to show love for parents, so I went up and hugged her, briefly noticing that I had become even taller.
"Glad to see you, Mom."
"Come on, unpack your things and come down."
Dragging Hermione's things to her room, I went into mine. Pigwidgeon immediately leaned out of his house, chirped something, jumped out, spun around, showing himself-beloved, and flew back. Seems like a small owl, but independent and understands everything.
Throwing off the backpack, and placing the scarf-nest in the corner of the table, I changed into home clothes, and five minutes later we were sitting with the whole family in the dining room, piling portions of the most diverse and extremely tasty homemade food.
Over a quiet family dinner, my and Hermione's stories about studies, about the Tournament, about the tasks sounded. Parents gasped and sighed, now from admiration, now from excitement—not every time you hear your child talking about giant dragons and other creatures, while understanding that they are real, not fiction.
We also talked about the guests, retold their stories. I was in no hurry to talk about the fate of the Durmstrang Headmaster, and Hermione was in no hurry to do so either.
"Hmm, by the way, Mione," I twirled a tall glass of juice in my hands. "And how are things with Viktor?"
"Oh how!" parents smiled simultaneously and looked at my sister, bringing her to a bright crimson blush and embarrassment.
"Hector!" my sister was indignant, looking stupidly into her empty plate.
Inhale-exhale, here she pulled herself together and stubbornly looked at us all.
"To begin with, there was nothing like that, we are just friends."
"How interesti-i-ing," mom drawled, propping her head with both hands.
"Indeed," father frowned demonstratively, but interest and amusement could be read in his eyes.
"Nothing like that. We went with him to the Yule Ball, spent time together in the library, but... I thought I liked him, but when we started working together on one project... In general, we are too different. There."
"It's clear that nothing is clear," mom nodded with a smile at Hermione's short speech. "And you, Hector, how are things in this regard? Maybe found yourself some cute girlfriend?"
"Maybe found," I shrugged neutrally.
"Will you tell?"
"Yes he found everything," Hermione grumbled. "Slytherin, pureblood. Surely plotting something."
"Do you still think so?" I was a little surprised.
"They all plot something."
"If they plot, then they have something to plot with," I shrugged, causing parents' chuckles.
"And what is bad about this your... Slytherin?" asked father, leaning back on the back of the chair.
"They are all dark," Hermione nodded importantly. "At least, according to general opinion."
"Is that bad?"
"Of course."
"Oo-oo-oo," I drawled, "queen of prejudices and biases. Let's not discuss such topics at the table."
Having dealt with dessert, we continued the conversation again, but on more mundane topics.
"What does your bird eat?" asked mom, clearly trying to estimate the family diet.
"Everything. It's omnivorous. Magical after all."
"Good. And a lot?"
"Unlikely very much. But promises to grow into a decent sized bird."
"Good. Will need to attend to this issue."
"Son," now father looked at me attentively. "Tomorrow you will need to go to St Mungo's."
"Yes? Good. To Smethwyck?"
"Yes. He wrote that he expects you from one to three," father nodded importantly.
"Good. Means I'll go."
"Drive you?"
"No, Dad, I'm not little. I know how to use public transport. And learned one little trick for movement."
"Really? Which one?"
"Apparition."
"Hector!" Hermione immediately was indignant. "It's illegal! Only adults, from seventeen years old, if by the norms of the magical world, can learn this extremely complex and dangerous technique."
"So what?" I tilted my head to the side. "And I learned like that."
"But you could have been hurt."
Parents watched our skirmish with a slight smile, but also with concern.
"I studied according to all Ministry standards and with special rings. I couldn't get hurt."
"And where did you get them?" my sister smiled slyly. "They exist only in the Ministry and only employees bring them to Hogwarts and only in the month strictly allocated for training."
"Cedric dragged them."
"But it's illegal!"
"So what?"
From the repetition of such a brutal argument Hermione even opened her mouth in surprise, and immediately closed it, pouting.
"Communication with Slytherins won't lead to good. Mark my words."
"Yes? With Potter and Weasley clearly safer."
"Don't understand what you mean."
Hermione almost managed to make an uninvolved look, but this did not mislead anyone present, true and no one began to dig—everyone has the right to their secrets.
Almost until the very night we talked about everything, and this exhausted Hermione considerably—she went to sleep. Wishing good night to parents, I followed my sister's example. But just as I was about to sleep and prepared the bed, an owl tapped its beak on the window. Opening the window I wanted to let the bird in, but it only held out a small envelope. Had to take the bracelet out of the backpack and put it on to check the letter properly with magic, because without the bracelet any manipulations simply dissipated, absorbed by the protection. At the same time I suddenly realized that enchanted objects and artifacts continue to work—at least my Extension Charm on the backpack. This is expected, but will need to work out this moment too, because it is not necessary to harm directly with a spell—can invent some "grenade" too.
The letter came from Cedric. He asked me to arrive tomorrow morning at the Weasley house—he agreed with the twins about transferring to me the powers of an intermediary between them and a certain artifact creator. Of course, this is just playing to the audience, but Cedric himself can no longer perform this function for obvious reasons. At the same time he would like to know when approximately to expect the fulfillment of orders. I answered him on the back of his own letter and sent it back with the owl. Well... Everything is simple here. Most likely, I will cope with all orders in a week—there is really nothing particularly complicated, impossible or even interesting there, but there are a lot of them. Tomorrow, means, first to the meeting with Cedric, then to St Mungo's, and then—will need to find a place for work—I won't do anything at home. Oh, and will need to give Hermione a bracelet allowing to cast spells. Only under what pretext?
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