Hermione raised her palms to her mouth so no one would notice her laugh. A common man... A Duke! She hadn't expected to hear such a gem.
"Ugh!" Pansy wiped her palms on her robes in disgust. "How dare you look like my Dracusic?!"
"Miss, may I say," Rich barely suppressed a grin, "that my wardrobe is impeccable, as befits a young gentleman. If you are not pleased with the company of a man of my station, alas, I am powerless to do anything about it. It is your right, miss."
"I wouldn't sit at the same table with someone like you!" Parkinson said haughtily.
"You're right, miss," Richard said coldly. "But I must admit, eating away from the table is rather inconvenient. Although Grandma Lisa's corgis, on the contrary, like to eat off the floor..."
Pansy, her nose in the air, headed toward Draco. Malfoy turned for a moment, revealing his swollen nose and the bruise under his eyes that promised to soon turn into two gorgeous black eyes.
Hermione was pleased to be rid of her friend's rival, but she couldn't contain her curiosity.
- Is it true that the Queen's corgis like to eat from the floor?
"Yes," Richard nodded. "They take their food out of the bowl and eat it off the floor. Apparently it tastes better that way, but I haven't tested it. They're sweet little dogs, but they're skittish. The Christmas before last, Bill gave my grandmother a stuffed hamster that sang Christmas carols loudly. The poor dog got scared and ran into another room. But my grandmother loved the gift."
"Bill?" Hermione looked at Richard with narrowed eyes. "Is that Prince William by any chance?" she whispered.
"Not by chance," Richard replied. "He's the one."
"Your gifts are strange," Hermione pursed her lips. "My parents gave me an Encyclopedia Britannica for Christmas."
"A fine gift, but..." Rich drawled. "Hermione, we have a tradition of giving inexpensive joke gifts. I'm thinking of ordering multicolored mugs in the shape of human faces with open mouths, which can be used to store sugar. It will look as if the mug has a mouthful of refined sugar and is trying to spit it out."
"Sweet..." Granger pursed her lips.
Professor McGonagall entered the room. Her stern gaze fixed on the ghosts, who began to quickly seep through the wall.
"Line up one after another," the professor commanded, "and follow me."
Unlike the other children, who were experiencing serious anxiety, Richard remained calm. The reason for this was the ghosts. The boy tried to think of a use for them and pondered the question of whether it was possible to imprison a ghost in a microprocessor and ensure its loyalty, ensuring precise execution of commands without the possibility of rebellion.
As Richard reflected, he recalled one of the Unforgivable Curses-Imperio. A spell that grants the sorcerer complete power over the person it's cast on. Wizard law forbids using this spell on a human, but there's no mention of bewitching a ghost and trapping it in a microchip.
The first-years emerged from the small room and crossed a spacious hall. Passing through double doors, the children found themselves in the Great Hall.
Richard remarked that the place was quite beautiful, yet somehow strange. The hall was illuminated by thousands of candles floating in midair above four long tables where the senior students sat. The tables were laden with glittering gold plates and goblets.
At the other end of the room, the teachers sat at the same long table.
The school's deputy headmistress led the first-year students to this very table and ordered them to turn to face the students, with their buttocks facing the teachers.
- Richie, look.
Hermione tugged at Richard's robe sleeve and drew his attention to the ceiling: black, dotted with stars. It felt like being under the open sky. Richard could compare it to, for example, the glass ceiling in the royal palace.
"It was enchanted to look like the sky," Hermione whispered, never leaving Richard's side. "I read it in Hogwarts: A History."
"It looks like a real-time hologram broadcast," Richard replied, also in a whisper. "Most likely, there's a receiving charm on the roof, like a video camera, and a transmitting charm on the ceiling. If we develop this idea further, we could create artifacts for filming and playing holograms. Hermione, can you find information on these charms? I'll send it to the wizards in my workshop."
"I'll try, Richie," the girl answered.
A sound reached Richard's ears. He looked up at the ceiling and saw the Headmistress place a three-legged stool in front of the line of first-years and place the pointed Wizarding Hat on it.
The hat had an unsightly appearance: worn, patched, dirty.
Everyone gathered stared at the hat.
The whispers ceased, and silence fell over the room for a few seconds. Then the hat moved. The next moment, a hole appeared in it, resembling a mouth, and it began to sing. And not just sing, like music playing on a record player, but with a distinct sense of purpose.
Richard thought at that moment:
"Oh, my God! Is all this luck really mine?! I'm a transmigrator, sure, but for so many grand pianos to pop up in one day is a bit much. A quantum transmitter, a holographic projector and holocamera, two types of AI... I can't believe all this luck is mine. It seems the universe loves me. How could it be otherwise, when it throws up so many goodies?! All I have to do is collect them."
Hermione tore her gaze away from the singing hat and noticed Richard's incredibly happy face. The boy looked inspired, as if an angel had descended from heaven to visit him, or as if he'd been given the gift he'd always dreamed of. Listening closely, Hermione discerned a quiet, barely audible murmur.
- Pianos... AIs... I love you, I love you... My little AI... My precious! Come to daddy...