Galinasky
Ron-Weasly book 1-8

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    Pure-blooded wizard Ron Weasley dreams of exploring the magical world after school. And he enters Hogwarts together with the national hero Harry Potter and the nerdy Hermione Granger. The first four years of school.

  Ron part 1.
  Chapter 1 morning at the Burrow.
  Burrow is another scary morning. Molly, the former Pruette, is a typical housewife. She is already raising six children. And she's due to give birth to her seventh soon. Well, maybe at least this time it will be a girl?! Her husband works for the Ministry of Magic in the department of protection of Muggles from magic. Along with his eldest son, he participates in Dumbledore's showdown and is a member of the Order of the Phoenix. The older children decided to send them to another country after the frequent murders of their families by a magician. Bill went to Egypt to work with goblins. Charlie is going to go to Romania to the dragon reserve.
  Burrow 's kitchen. Molly is standing by the stove, and a tired Arthur Weasley comes into the room.
  "Arthur! Arthur! Did you hear that?! They say the one who cannot be named killed the Potters."
  "Yes, dear. Unfortunately, this is the case."
  "Oh, Arthur. And Harry? What's wrong with him?"
  "He is alive. Albus said that the one who must not be named tried to kill him and disembodied."
  "But what will happen to the baby next, Arthur?"
  "I don't know Molly. They'll probably give it to their relatives. It's not clear right now. Black betrayed them, and he's Harry's godfather."
  "Molly clutched her chest."
  "Arthur, how come?"
  "I don't know Molly, but they say he killed Peter and twelve Muggles before he was arrested. They'll lock him up, so Harry will be given to his relatives. Maybe the Potters who went to America will take him away. He's their nephew.
  Chapter 2 a little bit about Ron.
  Almost ten years have passed since the morning the dark Lord was defeated. Burow has grown even taller since that time. It added the children's rooms upstairs. I live on the top floor. In the smallest room under the attic. A ghoul lives above me and periodically knocks on pipes and howls. And why does Mom keep him?
  I have five older brothers and a younger sister. We live in poverty. Well, not exactly poor, but due to the fact that there are many of us, there is not enough money for everything new for everyone. Unfortunately, since I'm the sixth son in the family, I don't get anything new. I'm going to school this year, but everything will be the same for me. Percy gave me his little rat Scabers, because Mom, overjoyed that he had become a prefect, finally bought him an owl. And I even have a used wand. Well, at least it's okay. And all the father with his car. I put almost my entire salary into it when I bought and repaired it. Okay, the older brothers are sending us some money.
  Percy asked me to keep an eye on his pet, even though I don't really need him. I wonder what kind of rat he has - the second, the third? He says that this little rat has been living with him for ten years, but somehow I don't believe it. Okay, I'm used to it by now. At least there will be someone to practice on. Our garden is neglected, but the bushes and fruit trees are still bearing fruit. Mom even waters them with some pest control potions and better fruiting. There are a lot of chickens, but we don't keep cattle. Meat from our neighboring farmers is quite cheap, as is milk. Periodically, mom takes a rooster from the neighboring farmers.
  I spent most of my childhood playing chess with Aunt Muriel and other aunts. Sometimes, though, the brothers let them ride their brooms, but not so often. We live near the magical settlement of Ottery St. Catchpole, not far from the transition from the magical to the Muggle world. Luna, my sister's friend, lives nearby. So they disappear together all the time. Having read about the adventures of the guild of magicians in our part of the world, I'm looking forward to seventeen. They accept students from that age. But it's better not to tell Mom about it. She'll Be Upset. When Charlie went to work at the Dragon Reserve, there was such a scandal. And about Bil's job, Mom grumbles that it's dangerous.
  With our average life span of up to 200 years, spending 20-30 years at first studying at school, and then as a guild student or intern is quite common. But my sister, having seen enough of her mother, seemed determined to get married and be a housewife. And not for anyone, but for Harry Potter, the hero of the magical world. She constantly drags around with his doll and fantasizes about what kind of children they will have. Horror. Of course, I've read all these books about you-know-who and the British Civil War, but I don't want to be so fanatical about a boy my age. But I would have made friends with him anyway, yes.
  Chapter 3 Letter from school.
  A typical summer day, closer to the middle of July.
  I'm sitting in my room, thinking over another chess strategy. I'm also training in controlling tiny golems. Although I can't enchant them myself, I can make them execute commands, as well as activate the game program for the black set. Aunt Muriel is a complete grouch, but she loves chess. So she got me addicted to them, too. She also bought me a set. They say you want to learn how to control golems, so train on such a small thing in a safe environment.
  I hear the rustle of wings. Is that Erol? Hmm, some kind of unfamiliar owl.
  I untie the letter written in green ink from my paw.
  "Ron Weasley. Ottery St. Catchpole. Burrow. the bedroom is under the attic."
  And the Hogwarts coat of arms on the seal. Hurray! Holding out my hand with the letter up, I start dancing and yelling.
  "Mom, Mom, an owl came to me from school!"
  "Read it quickly, son."
  I open the envelope and take out the letter sheet.
  "HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
  Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
  (Knight of the Order of Merlin, First class
  Grand Wizard, Supreme, Enchanter, President
  The International Confederation of Magicians)
  Dear Mr. Weasley,
  We are pleased to inform you that you have been granted a place at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please read the list of necessary books and items attached to this letter.
  Classes start on September 1st. We are waiting for your owl no later than July 31.
  Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmaster!"
  I'm going downstairs. Don't yell at the whole house. It's probably too late, though. I was heard all over the house.
  "Mom, they're waiting for our owl."
  "I know, honey. I'll send it now. You should write that you're taking Percy the rat as a familiar. Tomorrow we'll go to Diagon Alley."
  Mom wrote a reply and sent it with Erol. And also about Percy the rat. As it turned out, this is the ball of the magic rats who really lived in our family for ten years. Although Percy didn't bind him to himself. Apparently someone's lost familiar.
  Hooray, hooray. I'm finally going to school. Maybe I can even get to know Harry Potter himself? He's supposed to go to school this year, too.
  Chapter 4 Shopping trip.
  We gathered as usual for breakfast in the kitchen. Today we are going to Diagon Alley with the whole company.
  My father was reading a newspaper called the Daily Prophet. And he grumbled at Fudge, saying that he had again passed a law infringing on the rights of Muggleborns. As much as possible, and so they usually leave our world to live in an ordinary one. Especially when they've been living for a year or two on the frontier of the Magical World. My father grumbled that someone from the pureblood families had bribed the Minister of Magic again.
  I took out the letter and opened it again. I was so excited that even the fried eggs and sausages wouldn't fit in my mouth. And that didn't happen often. I've always wanted to eat. They even examined me at Mungo. They said that I have a fast metabolism. They say all poisons will come out faster. But healing potions also have a worse effect on me. That's the list of accessories.
  I unfolded the second piece of paper that I hadn't noticed yesterday and started reading. The envelope also contained a ticket for the train departing from platform nine and three quarters.
  "Hogwarts SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY Form
  First-year students are required to:
  Three simple working robes (black)." So let's buy this at a junk shop.
  "One simple pointed hat (black) for every day.
  One pair of protective gloves (made of dragon skin or a similar material)."- So Charlie sent this to me as a gift a year ago.
  "One winter coat (black, silver clasps)." Aunt Lucrezia gave me the cloak for my last birthday.
  "Please do not forget that the student's name and surname tags must be sewn on the clothes."
  So Mom will sew the tags on herself. Although she teaches us how to fix clothes, sometimes it can't be repaired with spells. The magical background of the item may be disrupted.
  Books
  Each student is supposed to have the following books:
  "The cursive book of spells and spells" (first year). Miranda Gussockle
  "The History of Magic." Bathilda Bagshot
  "Theory of Magic". Adalbert Waffling
  Transfiguration Handbook for Beginners. Emerick Switch
  "A thousand magical plants and mushrooms". Phyllida Spore
  "Magical decoctions and potions". Zhig Myshyakoff
  "Fantastic Beasts: Habitats". Newt Scamander
  "Dark Forces: a self-defense manual."Quentin Trimble
  And you'll have to buy almost everything from a junk dealer. Most of the books are designed for 5 years before the advanced course of the subject.
  "You are also supposed to have: 1 magic wand,
  1 boiler (tin, standard size No. 2), 1 set of glass or crystal vials, 1 telescope, 1 copper scale.
  We remind you that if you do not take a rat with you, then students can take an owl, a cat or a toad with them.
  WE REMIND PARENTS THAT FIRST-YEAR STUDENTS ARE NOT ALLOWED TO HAVE THEIR OWN BROOMS!!!"
  "Mom, are we going to buy all this stuff?"
  "No dear. You'll have to borrow books from a junk dealer. You already have a wand. Bill said it suited you. We'll take the clothes from the brothers. All that remains is to buy a telescope, a boiler, scales and ingredients."
  "Mom, we're running out of volatile powder."
  Percy said.
  "We'll buy it at the same time."
  I began to eat. Dad sat with us for a while longer and went to work in his department at the ministry. Mom grumbled that he even worked overtime on weekends. Everything is trying to nail the purebloods.
  ***
  After lunch, we moved the fireplace into a leaky cauldron. It was a tiny, nondescript bar, enchanted by Muggle attention. All kinds of drunks were sitting in the hall. And the real patrons of the inn had lunch and dinner in a separate room. I looked out the window at the street. People passing by didn't look at the bar. Their gazes drifted from the large bookstore to the CD store, and they didn't seem to notice the bar between the two stores at all.
  Yes, CD-ROMs. We even have an enchanted record player. Dad brought some Muggle songs once, but Mom didn't like it. She prefers to listen to the magic radio with songs by Celistina Warlock.
  For me, the bar was very dark and shabby. Several elderly women were sitting in a corner and drinking wine from small glasses, one of them was smoking a long pipe. A little man in a top hat was talking to an old bald bartender who looked like a frowning walnut. Tom's a real handsome guy. They say he's been around for three hundred years. We went to the backyard of the leaky cauldron.
  As far as I know, the bar is located in ordinary London. And behind it is one of the passageways to the magical part of London. Of course, this is a different world, but since the passage is next to London, they used to consider it a magical part of it. Muggleborns generally don't think about it. They think we live in a Muggle world.
  We stopped in front of the trash cans. Meanwhile, Mom started counting the bricks in the wall above the trash can. Apparently especially for me. I've never been to Diagon Alley before.
  "The left tank, directly above it: Three up... Two to the side," she muttered. "Remember that, Ron?"
  She touched the wall three times with her wand.
  "Yes, Mother. Can I try it?"
  I waited until the passage was closed and there was a wall behind the tanks again.
  Mom stepped aside and I pulled out the wand. Then he knocked on a worn brick.
  The brick I touched trembled, then twitched, and a small hole appeared in the middle of it, which quickly began to grow. A second later, there was an archway in front of us, large enough. Beyond the archway was a winding cobblestone street. The trash cans were missing.
  "Welcome to Diagon Alley," Mom said.
  "Baby Ronnie is going shopping today."
  "Fred, shut up." I hissed.
  We all trooped through the archway, and I looked back and saw how it immediately turned back into a blank wall.
  The sun was shining brightly, reflecting in the boilers set up in front of the store closest to us. "Boilers. All sizes. Copper, bronze, tin, silver. Self-stirring and collapsible," read the sign above us.
  "So, we'll buy a boiler on the way back, after all, ours is already leaking. And not made of tin, but normal," said Mom. "But first we'll go to the bank for the money."
  A soft hooting could be heard from the gloomy-looking store. "The Owls Shopping Center. Common owls, barn owls, long-eared and polar owls." A few boys about my age pressed their noses against another display case, looking at the brooms displayed in it.
  If only I had my own owl... no, I understand that this is an artfully made golem. She even eats like a real one, but it's more like a reified spirit. We even made special cookies for them. Dried pieces of meat and berries, although it is better not to feed them for a long time. Owls must fly to hunt. Otherwise, the spirit will wither and may even leave the master, to whom they are attached as familiars.
  "Look," I heard him say, "the new Nimbus 2000 is the fastest."
  The broom is really cool. But unfortunately, we definitely can't afford it. I wish I had a comet.... I like flying, but you can't fly on brooms for long. The ass gets tired.
  There were shops here that sold robes, telescopes, and strange silver instruments like I'd never seen before. Even though I helped my mom make potions. I cut the ingredients more and sometimes stirred them. If the potion wasn't complicated. The storefronts all over the street were filled with barrels of bat spleens and eel eyes, swaying pyramids of spell books, bird feathers and scrolls of parchment, bottles of magic potions and globes of the moon...
  "Gringotts," my mom announced when we finally stopped. We were in front of a snow-white building towering over small shops. The building seemed to overwhelm with its majestic beauty. And there was a goblin in a scarlet and gold uniform standing by the highly polished bronze doors.
  He was a head shorter than me. He had a dark green, intelligent face, a pointed beard, and, as I noticed, very long fingers and feet. He bowed as we walked inside. Now we were standing in front of a second set of doors, this time silver. The lines were engraved on them:
  "Come in, stranger, but don't forget,
  That greed has a sinful nature,
  Who doesn't like to work, but likes to borrow,
  It pays dearly, and you need to know that.
  If you came for someone else, you're here.,
  You'll never leave here."
  Two goblins greeted us with bows as we passed through the silver doors and found ourselves in a huge marble hall. A hundred more goblins sat on high chairs behind a long counter, making notes in large ledgers, weighing coins on copper scales, and examining precious stones with magnifying glasses. There were more doors leading out of the hall than I could count, as other goblins let people in and out through them. Mom and my brothers came to the counter.
  "Good morning," Mom said to the free goblin. "We're here to get some money from the Weasley safe."
  "Do you have a key to it, ma'am?"
  Molly took out a small bronze key and put it on the counter. The goblin studied him.
  "Everything seems to be in order. Scoffer!"
  Scoffer was also a goblin. We followed him to one of the doors.
  Scoffer opened the door for us. We were standing in a narrow stone corridor lit by burning torches. The road sloped steeply down, and there were thin rails on the floor. The scoffer whistled, and a large cart clanked up to us. We climbed inside - we managed it with difficulty, but there were too many of us, and let's go.
  At first, we raced through a maze of winding corridors. I tried to remember the way: left, right, left, left, straight ahead at the fork, left again, right again, but soon I gave up this useless task. The rattling cart seemed to know the way by itself, because Scoffer wasn't driving it.
  Icy air blew over me, and my eyes stung, but I kept them wide open. At some point, it seemed to me that I noticed a flash of fire at the end of the corridor, and I quickly turned around to see if it was a dragon, but I was too late - the cart abruptly went down. She was currently passing by an underground lake, with stone columns growing on the ceiling and walls. Finally, we arrived at the place.
  Scoffer unlocked the door. A cloud of green smoke erupted from inside, and when it cleared, I sighed in frustration. There was a pile of silver coins inside. A few gold pieces. A few more knuts.
  The mother began to collect the coins in her bag. Oh, I hope we have enough for second-hand stuff. Even though Bill and Charlie are sending a portion of our salaries to help us, there's still not enough money for such a horde of schoolchildren. Unfortunately, some things need to be bought new. And they're expensive. I'll need to get a new wand in two or three years.
  ***
  Another frantic cart race, and we were already standing outside the bank, squinting in the sunlight.
  "Come on, kids, let's go to Malkin's first to get Percy's robes."
  "Mom, why does Percy have new robes?"
  "Because he's the prefect, Roni."
  I grimaced. It's not enough for me to learn from this nerd at home, but he will also build us at school.
  Madame Malkin turned out to be a squat, smiling sorceress dressed in mauve robes.
  "Are we going to study at Hogwarts?" She asked before we could explain the purpose of our visit to her. "You've come to the right place."
  "We only need robes for the older boy."
  "Well, as you wish. Will you wait here or outside?"
  "Here."
  Madame Malkin placed Percy next to the mirror. Centimeters immediately spun around him. After that, she began to adjust the robes for him. After waiting for her to finish and paying for the purchase, we went outside.
  We went into a shop to buy parchment and quills. They didn't go into the bookstore. They bought me a student boiler made of inert metal. Normal potions are not brewed in tin. But it's the most important thing for children to go to school. I need a cauldron to brew my potions. As a future adventurer magician, I must be able to assemble and use a first-aid kit.
  Then we bought worn scales at a junk shop, and we also bought a folding copper telescope with good lenses. And a stack of textbooks. Yes, they looked ugly and were old, but what can you do.
  Then we visited a pharmacy, where everything was so magical that I didn't even notice the terrible smell - it smelled of rotten eggs and rotten zucchini. Barrels of some kind of slime stood on the floor, glass jars with dried plants, crushed roots and colorful powders lined the walls, and bundles of feathers, fangs and curved claws hung from the ceiling. While Mom was talking to the pharmacist-we needed to buy all sorts of ingredients for making magic potions-I was studying silver unicorn horns worth twenty-one galleons each and tiny beetle eyes, shiny and black (five knuts per ladle).
  I'm going to study at the guild and continue to mine ingredients and explore the magical world. It looks like you'll have to assemble a small team to do this. Or use golems? No, we need people anyway. We need a healer, and we should invite a couple more rangers. I think it will be possible to assemble a small group while still studying at the guild. After all, there are quite often tasks to extract ingredients in a magical forest or search for artifacts in destroyed cities.
  "Well, that's it, you can walk down the alley and go home."
  ***
  It was already afternoon, and the sun was sinking lower, when we walked back through Diagon Alley, then through the wall and entered the Leaky Cauldron, which no longer had a single customer. After moving home, we went to our rooms. I put my purchases in the trunk. I also leafed through my textbooks. I should at least read them before the school year.
  "Ron, Percy, go to dinner." Mom called us downstairs.
  "Yes, Mom," I shouted and rushed downstairs for a festive dinner.
  Chapter 5 A trip to school.
  August flew by unnoticed. I read textbooks, and in the afternoon I flew on an old broom with my brothers. Bill also advised me to exercise, saying I have to walk and run a lot if I want to fulfill my dream. Besides, it's worth getting a weapon besides a magic wand. He goes to work himself with a long silver-plated knife, almost a sword. Can I buy one too? If they do accept me...
  ***
  On the last morning of August, I woke up at seven o'clock and couldn't sleep anymore, I was too excited. I got up and got into sweatpants -I probably shouldn't have gone to the train station in a wizard's robe, it was easier to change clothes on the train. Unfortunately, for security reasons, there was only one passage leading to the station and it was on the Muggle side. It's also enchanted to allow only wizards and squibs to pass. Although they do not possess magic in the full sense of the word, they have some abilities. But of course they are not accepted at Hogwarts. The platform is universal, so trains depart from it to simpler magic schools. Hogwarts is, in a sense, a school for the elite of the magical world. If you get there, you have high potential and they will try to get their hands on you after graduation. There are too few of us to waste magicians. Even Muggleborns, although they are usually weaker than purebloods and have no clue about our traditions.
  I carefully studied the list of necessary books and things sent to me to make sure that I hadn't forgotten anything. After pressing up and shaking my abs, I picked the Scabers up on my shoulder and started pacing up and down the room, waiting for the rest of the Weasleys to wake up. Two hours later, my father stuffed huge suitcases into the trunk of our Ford, we all got inside and drove off.
  We were at King's Cross station at ten-thirty sharp.
  After unloading the chests and putting them on the carts, we headed to the train station.
  There was a large plastic sign with the number nine above one platform, and a similar sign with the number ten above the other. There was nothing in the middle. How many people are here. I've never been in such a crowded place before. Mom put a Muggle distraction charm on us. And we took the trolleys at the station and rolled the chests forward.
  I thought there'd be a whole bunch of Muggles here...
  A boy with black hair sticking out in all directions and wearing round glasses turned sharply. Did he hear us? Muggleborn or something? He's kind of scared and dressed in nice clothes, but it's clearly not his size. Everything is hanging in a bag. Apparently, he's also after someone.
  "So, what's your platform number?" The mother asked.
  "Nine and three-quarters," Jeanie squeaked, tugging at her mother's arm. "Mom, can I go too?.."
  "You're too young, Ginny, so calm down."
  Mom took her sister with her so as not to leave her alone at home.
  "Well, Percy, you go first."
  My brother walked towards platforms nine and ten. A crowd of tourists passed between us, and when they finally passed, Percy had already disappeared.
  "Fred, you're next," Mom commanded.
  "I'm not Fred, I'm George." The twin she was addressing answered. "Tell me honestly, woman, how can you call yourself our mother? Can't you see that I'm George?"
  "George, dear, I'm sorry," Mom said apologetically.
  "I was joking, I'm actually Fred," said the brother and moved forward.
  They're back with their favorite joke. They are really very difficult to distinguish. Even for us.
  The other twin shouted after him to hurry up. And after a moment, Fred disappeared from sight, and Ginny and I were left. Now it was George's turn. He also went forward and disappeared as suddenly as the first brothers.
  A black-haired boy with green eyes came up to us. Damn, they're almost glowing. Although my eyes are bright too. Only light blue ones. With a cart on which stood a chest, a cage with a white owl.
  "Excuse me," he said timidly.
  "Hello, dear." Mom smiled at him "Is this your first time going to Hogwarts? Ron, my youngest, is also a rookie."
  She pointed at me.
  "Yes," the boy confirmed. "But the thing is... The thing is, I do not know how..."
  "...how to get on the platform," his mother finished understandingly for him, and the boy nodded. "Don't worry." She winked at him cheerfully. "All you have to do is go straight through the separation barrier between platforms nine and ten. The most important thing is that you can't stop and you can't be afraid that you'll crash into a barrier. If you're nervous, it's better to walk fast or run. You know, you better go right now, in front of Ron."
  "Er..... Okay," the boy agreed. "He was obviously scared and was going to take the wall with a battering ram. Definitely Muggleborn."
  He pushed his cart forward and looked at the barrier. Then he moved towards the barrier. He was constantly being pushed by people scurrying past, besides, the cart was very heavy for him. The boy leaned on the handrail of the cart and ran heavily. Approaching the barrier, he entered it and disappeared from sight.
  Damn, it's time. I ran after him, pushing a heavy cart. In front of the barrier, I couldn't stand it and squeezed my eyes shut. Phew, it's gone. So, now I wouldn't hurt anyone. I stopped and walked away. Ginny ran out after me, then Mom came out.
  I was on a crowded platform with a scarlet steam locomotive. I know Muggles haven't had them for a long time, but it suits us fine. The sign on the board read:
  "Hogwarts Express. 11.00"
  I looked back and saw that the ticket booth was gone, and in its place is an arch with a wrought iron gate and a sign:
  "Platform number nine and three quarters"
  Clouds of smoke spewed by the steam locomotive floated over the heads of the people gathered on the platform, and colorful cats scurried under their feet. I immediately hid the Scabers in my bosom. I should have done it earlier, but I was already so used to carrying it on my shoulder that I just didn't think about it. The smartest rat understands everything. But lazy... I could hear voices, the creaking of heavy trunks, and the disgruntled hoots of owls talking to each other.
  The first few carriages were already packed with schoolchildren. They leaned out of the windows to have a last word with their parents, or fought for free seats. The boy with the black hair had already moved further along the train, peering into the windows of the carriages in search of a place. We continued to push through the crowd and finally stopped near the carriage, which was located almost at the very back of the train. The twins had already disappeared on the train.
  The mother, standing by the carriage, called them.
  "Fred? George? Are you here?"
  "We're coming, Mom."
  The mother suddenly pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket. I don't like it so much.
  "Ron, there's something on your nose."
  I tried to dodge, but she grabbed me and started rubbing the tip of my nose with a handkerchief.
  "Mom, leave me alone!" I protested, but I only managed to free myself when my mother let me go.
  "Oh, oh, oh, little Ronnie has a dirty nose." One of the twins sang mockingly.
  "Shut up," I said.
  "Where's Percy?" Mother asked.
  There he goes.
  The elder brother came over to the others. He had already changed his clothes, and he was wearing a black school uniform, and on his chest was a shiny silver badge with the letter "P".
  "I'll just be a second, Mom," he said.
  "I'm there, at the very beginning of the train, where they've allocated a carriage for prefect..."
  It's starting again. How long can we talk about this? He hasn't shut up all summer.
  "So you're the prefect now, Percy?" One of the twins was terribly surprised. "Why didn't you tell us, we didn't know."
  "Come on, he seemed to be saying something to us," The second twin chimed in. "One day..."
  "Or two," said the first.
  "Or three," the second one continued.
  "Or the whole summer..."
  "Oh, shut up." Percy waved his hand.
  "Why is it that Percy has a new uniform and we have an old one?" One of the twins caught himself, indignantly pointing at the brand-new robe.
  "Because he's a prefect now." It was clear from the mother's voice that she was proud of her son. "Well, dear, I wish you a good study, and send an owl when you get there."
  She kissed Percy on the cheek and he left. And then she turned to the twins.
  "Okay, now you two. You have to behave yourself this year. If I get an owl telling me again that you've done something wrong- blown up the toilet or..."
  "Blew up the toilet?" One of them was amazed.
  "We have never blown up toilets."
  "Why don't we try?" The second one chuckled. "Great idea, thanks, Mom."
  "It's not funny," the mother snapped. "And keep an eye on Ron."
  "Don't worry, we won't let little Ronnie get hurt..."
  It's better to be unattended than with them. They're constantly testing their jokes on everyone. The potion makers are unfinished. It is worth eating only in the great hall and away from this couple.
  "Shut up," I muttered again. Although I was younger than the twins, we were all about the same height. I had stretched out quite a lot in the last year, so my brothers' clothes were a little too short for me.
  "Yes, Mom, you can't imagine," George began. "Guess who we just met on the train?"
  "Do you remember the black-haired boy who stood next to us at the train station?" Fred asked the woman. "Do you know who he is?"
  "Who is it?"
  "Harry Potter!" It was George, I think, who exclaimed.
  Oh, what's going to happen now. I looked at my sister.
  "Oh, Mom, can I get on the train and look at him? Mom, please..."
  Well. Who would doubt it.
  "You've seen him before, Ginny. And don't stare at the poor boy like he's an animal in a zoo. Is it really him, Fred? How do you know that?"
  I didn't guess right.
  "I asked him," Fred explained. "I saw his scar and asked. But the scar is actually what they say - it looks like a zipper."
  "Oh, poor thing, no wonder he was alone!" Mom exclaimed. "I was still thinking: why isn't anyone seeing him off? He's so polite, so well-mannered."
  Alone?! He's a hero, but he looks like there's just no one to take care of him?! strange. It says in the books that Director Dumbledore hid him with his relatives in a safe place. I didn't know the Potters were poor either.
  "Come on, that's not the point," one of the twins interrupted her. "Do you think he remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?"
  The mother suddenly became stern.
  "I forbid you to ask him about it, Fred. Don't even think about it. Does he really need to be reminded of this today?"
  "Come on, come on, I won't. The train driver's whistle sounded loudly.
  "Come on, hurry up!" the woman said, and the three of us climbed into the car and, remaining in the vestibule, blew kisses to my sister and mother. My sister suddenly burst into tears. Apparently she was upset that she was staying alone in the Burow. At least I used to play chess with her.
  "Come on, Ginny, we're going to fill you up with owls," one of the twins comforted her.
  "We'll send you a toilet bowl from the school bathroom," promised the second.
  "George!" Mom exclaimed indignantly.
  "I'm just kidding, Mom."
  The train started moving. I saw my mother waving at us, and Ginny, either laughing or crying, running after the car. But soon she fell behind because the train was picking up speed.
  The train swerved slightly to the right, and the platform disappeared from view. Houses flashed by outside the window. We walked down the train.
  But this is my chance to get to know him. Maybe you can even become his friend?
  "And where is the compartment where Harry is sitting?"
  "We'll show you now." Said one of the brothers. After five minutes of walking, we were already standing under the door of the compartment.
  I opened the door a crack and looked inside.
  "Is it free here?" I asked the black-haired boy from the train station, pointing to the seat opposite. "In others, there is nowhere to sit at all."
  He nodded, and I quickly sat down. So don't stare at the open. I stole a glance at him, but immediately shifted my gaze, pretending that I was very interested in the landscape outside the window.
  "Hey, Ron!" the twins called out to me as they looked into the compartment. "We'll go. Lee Jordan is riding two cars away from us, he's carrying a giant tarantul with him."
  Damn, couldn't they not say the last thing? I really dislike spiders after their next joke. After all, a thirty-centimeter spider instead of a teddy bear is scary.
  "Go on," I mumbled.
  "Harry, we still haven't introduced ourselves to you." The twins were smiling. "Fred and George Weasley. And this is our brother Ron. I'll see you later."
  "See you later," Harry and I said almost simultaneously. And the twins were gone.
  "Are you really Harry Potter?" I blurted out, I was bursting with the desire to ask this question. I hope this isn't another prank by these red-haired assholes.
  Harry nodded.
  "Oh, I thought this was another Fred and George joke," I exhaled. "You really have one... Well, you know..."
  I held out my finger, pointing at Harry's forehead. Harry ran a hand through his hair, exposing his forehead. When I saw the scar, I didn't take my eyes off it.
  "So this is where You-Know-Who is..."
  "Yes," Harry confirmed. "But I don't remember that."
  "Don't you remember anything at all?" I was hoping for the opposite. "Well, nothing at all?"
  "I just remember a lot of green light, that's all."
  Hmm, judging by the description, it looks like Avada. But they don't survive after it.
  "Wow," I shook my head. I sat and stared at Harry, not taking my eyes off, as if fascinated, but then I caught myself and stared out the window.
  "Do you have wizards in your family?" Harry asked. It seemed like he was interested in me too.
  "Uh... yeah. I think so," I said after some thought. "I think Mom has a cousin, he's a squib, he works as an accountant, but we never talk about him."
  We need to ask him in more detail about his appearance.
  "I heard that you lived with relatives." There was a terrible curiosity in my eyes. "What are they like anyway?"
  "Terrible... Probably not all of them, though. But my aunt, uncle, and cousin are terrible. They're all Muggles and they hate magic, can you imagine? I wish I had three magical brothers like you."
  Yeah, I guess I guessed right. But who gave Potter to Muggles, doesn't he have an uncle and family on his father's side?
  "I have five of them." My voice was not at all cheerful. "I'm the sixth. And now I have to do everything to be better than them. Bill was the best student at school, Charlie played quidditch, and wore the captain's armband. And Percy has become a prefect. Fred and George, of course, do all sorts of nonsense, but they have good grades, and everyone loves them. And now everyone expects me to study as well as my brothers. But even if it does, it won't do anything, because I'm the youngest. So I need to become better than them, and I don't think I can do it. Besides, when you have five brothers, you never get anything new. So I'm going to school with all the old ones-I got the uniform from Bill, the magic wand from him too, and the rat from Percy.
  I started to share my pain. Then he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat that was sleeping peacefully.
  No, to think that he had fallen asleep again.
  "His name is Skabers, and he's completely useless- he sleeps all day. Dad gave Percy an owl when he found out he was going to be a prefect, and I wanted one too, but they don't have a ma... I wanted to say that I got a rat instead."
  My ears are red. It looks like I said a lot of unnecessary things. I stopped talking and looked out the window.
  Harry paused and said that he had never had any money of his own. And about how he wore old clothes for Dudley and never got proper birthday presents. I cheered up a bit. Maybe I can really make friends with him? But I'll have to write to my mom about the gifts, even if it makes him happy for the new year. She said that our family knew his parents well.
  "And until Hagrid told me, I didn't even know I was a wizard," Harry continued. "And I didn't know anything about my parents or Voldemort..."
  I pulled away from him, clutching the seat. Even brave wizards still don't pronounce that name. Is he crazy?
  "What are you doing?" Harry was surprised.
  "You called You-Know-Who by name!" There was fear and respect in my voice. "I thought it was you..."
  "I wasn't trying to be brave," Harry explained. "I just didn't know that you can't pronounce that name. Now do you understand what I was saying? I still don't know so much, I still have so much to learn... And I'm afraid... I'm afraid that I'll be the worst student in school", it seems that this thought has been bothering him for a long time. I should cheer him up. I had a wand myself, but my mother forbade me to do magic. And I only got it this summer.
  "Don't be afraid," I reassured him. "There are a lot of students at the school who grew up in Muggle families, and they learn everything pretty quickly. After all, the school has a pretty strong selection process. They just don't take idiots there. All graduates of Hogwarts must pass the Owl at least satisfactorily, and a conversation with a future employer begins with good grades. Some even require excellent grades in their core subjects.
  Unfortunately, Muggleborns have problems with the higher branches of magic, which require a large reserve. That's where all these ministry bans came from. Although some rituals are really creepy.
  While we were chatting, the train had left London and was now speeding past fields and meadows where cows and sheep grazed. Harry and I fell silent, looking out the window. He seemed to be interested in everything, and I was thinking about what I could talk about with him. And is it even worth being friends? After half an hour of thought, I decided it was worth it. Even with such a small amount of knowledge and problems in the family, he will be useful. And I liked him as a person.
  At about half past one, there was a knock from the vestibule, and then a smiling woman with a dimple in her chin looked into the compartment.
  "Would you guys like something to eat?"
  Harry jumped up hastily when he heard the tempting offer. My ears turned red again, and I muttered that I had brought sandwiches with me. So Harry went out into the hallway alone.
  A few minutes later, he returned loaded with purchases and dumped them on the seat. I looked at the small pile of sweets. Won't it tear?
  "Are you that hungry?" I asked him.
  "I'm starving," Harry replied, unwrapping a pumpkin cookie and taking half a bite at once.
   I pulled a paper bag out of my suitcase and took out four sandwiches. Damn, again.
  "She always forgets that I don't like smoked beef," I said sadly.
  "I'm changing it to my own." Harry handed me a cookie. "Come on, join us..."
  "No, you won't like these sandwiches- the meat is dry and there's no sauce," I shook my head and tensed up. "Mom just forgot-she has a lot of us..."
  "Come on, eat." Harry nodded at his sweets. Well okay. The meat is really overdried. She keeps forgetting that I don't like beef. I moved to his seat and held out my hand to the slide. Well, their sandwiches. I'll leave it as a stash or give it to Percy. He likes beef.
  "What's this?" Harry asked, picking up a package of "chocolate frogs". "They're not real frogs, are they?"
  I almost laughed at the thought of his face when he unwrapped the frog.
  "No, they're not real, they're just made in the shape of frogs, but they're made of chocolate, and look, they're kicking and if you hesitate, they can jump away, really not far." I smiled. "If you eat, don't throw the liner away - I don't have enough Agrippa..."
  What?" don"t undestend Harry.
  "Oh, of course you don't know," I asked. "There are collectible cards inside. From the series "Famous witches and wizards". Many guys collect them. I have about five hundred of them, but Agrippa isn't here, and neither is Ptolemy, I think."
  Harry unwrapped the frog and pulled out a card. She tried to run away, but he automatically jerked his hand and grabbed her, after which he put it in his mouth. Hmm, he only needs to be a hunter on the team. Good reflexes and a good build. But he's going to have trouble buying a broom. After chewing on the chocolate, Harry began to turn the card over in his hands.
  "So that's what Dumbledore is like!" He exclaimed.
  "Don't tell me you've never heard of Dumbledore!" I protested. "Maybe I'll take one of the "frogs" - maybe Agrippa will get caught..."
  Of course, I was more attracted to chocolate. But the cards are also interesting, but it's quite difficult to get the right one there.
  Harry turned the card over and began to read the insert.
  Then he turned the card over again and was surprised.
  "He's gone somewhere!" he yelled.
  I looked at him in surprise.
  "But you didn't expect him to be here all day," I noticed. "He'll be back. But I've got Morgana again, and I've already got six of them. Why don't you take it and start collecting?"
  I looked around at the bunch of "frogs" that were waiting to be unwrapped. I love chocolate.
  "Help yourself," Harry offered, following the direction of my gaze. "By the way, did you know that among Muggles, if a person is photographed, then he does not disappear from the photo?"
  What's the truth? It's so boring. Although it can be useful.
  "What are you talking about?" I was terribly surprised. "What, they're not moving at all? Well done!"
  Harry stared at the card until Dumbledore's image appeared on it again. Soon he had eight of these cards. It took a long time before Harry put aside the last of his collection. He stared at her for ten minutes.
  "You should be careful," I advised, noticing that Harry had picked up a bag of pills. "It says they have very different tastes, so that's the real truth. No, there are quite normal flavors there - orange, say, or chocolate, or mint, but sometimes you come across spinach, or kidneys, or tripe. George claims that he somehow came across a candy with a taste of snot."
  He might be joking, but I've come across some pretty nasty candies.
  I chose a green dragee, examined it carefully, and took a bite.
  "Ugh!" I grimaced. "Brussels sprouts!"
  We had a lot of fun eating these pills.
  The area outside the window has changed dramatically. The cultivated fields were replaced by forests, rivers and green hills. Someone knocked on the door of the compartment. Neville Longbottom appeared in the doorway, whom I passed as we walked along the platform. He looked like he was about to cry.
  "Excuse me," said the boy, "Have you seen a toad here?"
  Harry and I shook our heads together, and Neville began to wail. Mom says that his parents were also friends of our family, but something happened to them and now Neville is being raised by his grandmother. And she's worse than our Aunt Muriel.
  "I've lost her! She's always running away from me!"
  "She'll be there," Harry assured him.
  "Yes, I suppose so," Neville said sadly "Well, if you see her..."
  And with that, he left.
  "I don't understand why he's so worried." I shrugged my shoulders. "If I had been carrying a toad with me, I would have lost it on the platform. Although my rat is not much better than a toad, so it's not for me to talk about it."
  The rat was still asleep, snuggled in my bosom.
  "Maybe he's dead a long time ago, or maybe he's asleep-it doesn't make any difference. It looks the same," I said disgustedly. "Yesterday I tried to enchant it to turn yellow" I thought it would look more interesting that way. "but it didn't work out. I'll show you now, look..."
  I rummaged in my suitcase and pulled out a battered-looking magic wand. It was chipped in several places, and there was something white gleaming at the end. Oh, couldn't they at least buy a new wand this year... no, I understand that it suited me, but it's going to fall apart soon. Although Bill bought himself a new one, maybe I'll buy one for myself.
  "The unicorn's fur is almost out," I remarked sheepishly. "so..."
  Before I could raise my wand, the compartment door opened again. The chubby boy appeared on the doorstep again, but this time there was a girl with thick brown hair with him, who had already changed into a school uniform. Her front teeth were a little too big. I went through the children of wizards. Half-blood or Muggleborn? Has anyone seen a toad? Neville lost her, and I'm helping him find her. Have you seen her or not?" The girl asked in a downright bossy tone. Should I advise them to find a prefect or not? No, well, them...
  "He's already been here, and we told him we hadn't seen him," I replied, but the girl didn't seem to be listening to me, her attention was focused on the magic wand in my hands.
  "Oh, are you showing miracles? Come on, we'll take a look too."
  She sat down on an empty seat, and I got nervous. No, what a girl.
  "Er-er," I said hesitantly. "Well, okay."
  I cleared my throat and raised my wand again.:
  "You fat, stupid rat, turn yellow and become like butter, like bright sunlight."
  I waved my wand, but nothing happened. Skabers was still gray and still sleeping peacefully. Damn, it didn't work out again. Were they joking?
  "Are you sure this is the right spell?" The girl asked. "It's not working, haven't you noticed? And here I took some simple spells from books to practice a little, and everything worked out. There are no wizards in my family, I was so terribly surprised when I received the letter from Hogwarts - I mean, pleasantly surprised, because this is the best wizarding school in the world. And of course, I have already memorized all our textbooks - I hope that this will be enough to study better than everyone else. Oh, by the way, my name is Hermione Granger, and you?"
  She was talking very fast, but still I caught the meaning of what she said and I was worried. Well, wow. No one told me that textbooks should be memorized. Exchanged glances with Harry. No, he didn't seem to have learned them either. These are the languages I learned. Mom brought some kind of artifact that she rented on Diagon Alley, and I accelerated my learning of old languages. Just like math and English. We're neighbors with Muggle Britain, after all. Most of the local magicians speak English. Although purebloods also learn French, and some German. After all, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang are also very good schools.
  "I'm Ron Weasley," I muttered.
  "Harry Potter," Harry introduced himself.
  "Are you really Harry Potter?" The girl's gaze became very attentive. "You can be sure that I know everything about you. I bought a few books that weren't on the list, just for extra reading, and your name is mentioned in Modern History of Magic, and The Rise and Decline of the Dark Arts, and The Greatest Events of the Wizarding World in the Twentieth Century."
  "Yes?" That's all Harry said.
  "God, didn't you know?" the girl was surprised. "If I were you, I would read everything about myself that can be found in books. Yes, do you know which faculty you will get into? I've already found out something, and I want to believe that I'll be in Gryffindor. It seems like this is the best option. I've heard that Dumbledore himself once studied at this faculty. By the way, I think getting into Ravenclaw would be nice too... Okay, we'll go find Neville's toad. You two better get changed, I think we'll be there soon.
  And she left, taking the chubby man with her.
  "I don't know which faculty I'll be in, but I hope we'll be on different," I whispered and put the magic wand back in the chest, "It didn't work out, and it was all because of this stupid spell. George assured me that it would work, but now it seems to me that he invented it himself to make fun of me."
  "What department do your brothers study at?" Harry asked. The guy was interested in everything.
  "Gryffindor," I nodded, saddened again by the thought of the prankster brothers. "Mom and Dad were there too."
  I have to go there. Although the program is the same for all faculties now, future fighters traditionally go to the red and gold.
  "I don't know what will happen if I get to some other one. It would be nice to get into Ravenclaw, but I can't imagine what would happen if I got into Slytherin."
  With my background in the crazy Weasley family, they won't let me in there. The elite of the magical world go there to make acquaintances. Even though we're purebloods, Dad's considered a little crazy because of his fascination with Muggles. And we're not rich, especially by the standards of the sacred twenty-eight, as they call themselves.
  - This is the faculty where studied Volde... You-Know-Who? Harry quickly corrected himself under my gaze.
  "Yeah," I nodded and fell silent dejectedly.
  "You know, it seems to me that Skabers mustache has lightened, which means that the spell has worked at least a little," said Harry. He was obviously trying to comfort me. Well, to hell with him and the rat. He really is, according to Mom, magical. "And your older brothers, who have already graduated from high school, what are they doing now?"
  "Charlie is in Romania studying dragons, and Bill works for Gringotts Bank and went to Africa on their business," I explained. "Have you heard of Gringotts? Did you hear what happened the other day? The "Prophet" wrote about it... Although yes, Muggles have other newspapers... Anyway, someone tried to rob a top-secret safe."
  Harry's eyes widened.
  "Really? And what happened to the robbers?"
  "Nothing. That's why they wrote about it so much, they didn't catch it. Dad says it must have been a powerful dark wizard, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to get into Gringotts and break into the safe and then come out of there unharmed. But the strangest thing is that the robbers didn't steal anything. Of course, everyone is afraid that You-Know-Who is behind this. Well, you've heard about Quidditch, of course." I was absolutely sure of it. It's the best sport in the world. All boys and girls dream of playing it. Or they support a professional team. I have a favorite team, the Pedl Cannons, and I've been rooting for them since I was six years old. "Which team do you support? I'm for the Guns, even though they've been considered outsiders for the last seventy years."
  "Er..... I actually don't know any teams," Harry admitted.
  "What are you talking about!" I was shocked. "It's the best game in the world!" I started campaigning for my first friend. Although I talked to the other children of wizards, we lived in the wilderness and met very rarely.
  And I started explaining to Harry that Quidditch is played with four balls, that each team has seven players and each has its own place on the field and its own functions. Then I started describing the most famous matches that I managed to attend with my brothers. Then he told me what kind of broom I would buy for myself if I had the money. I wanted to try myself as a goalkeeper for the school team. So I need a broom that's not too fast, although it's maneuverable. I was explaining to Harry the intricacies of the rules of the game when the compartment door opened again. But this was no longer Neville, who had lost his toad in the company of Hermione Granger.
  Is there a passageway here?!
  Three boys entered the compartment, and in the center was a pale boy with white hair, a typical Malfoy, he looked at Harry with interest.
  "It's true?" The pale-faced man asked from the doorway. "They say all over the train that Harry Potter is riding in this compartment. So it's you, right?"
  "That's right," Harry nodded.
  The two who came with the pale-faced man were tough guys, and they looked rather unpleasant. Flanking the pale-faced man, they resembled his bodyguards.
  "This is Crabbe, and this is Goyle," the pale-faced man casually introduced them, noticing that Harry was looking at his companions. "And I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."
  I cleared my throat. Well, they gave him a name. Dragon, wow. Although I've heard that the Malfoys are descended from ice dragons. Just like the Weasleys from the fiery ones. That's why we fight all the time. I could barely contain my laughter. Draco Malfoy gave me a disapproving look.
  "You find my name funny, don't you? I won't even ask you your name. My father told me that if you see a red-haired and freckled boy, it means he's from the Weasley family. A family with more children than their parents can afford."
  And a punch in the face for that?
  Having delivered this murderous tirade, Malfoy turned back to Harry:
  "You'll soon find out, Potter, that there are several wizarding dynasties in our world that are much cooler than all the others. You don't need to be friends with people who don't deserve it. I'll help you figure it out. You're my second cousin."
  He held out his hand to shake, but Harry pretended not to notice. But my grandmother can't stand Blacks any more than she can stand Malfoys.
  "Thanks, but I think I can figure out who deserves what," Harry said coldly.
  Draco Malfoy did not blush, but pink spots appeared on his pale cheeks.
  "I'd be more careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly. "If you're not more polite, you'll end up like your parents. They, like you, didn't know what was good for them and what was bad for them. If you're hanging out with trash like Weasley and that Hagrid, it's going to be worse for you. You might be a half-breed because of your dirty-blooded mother, but you're one of the twenty-eight."
  Harry and I rose from our seats at the same time. My face turned the same copper red as my hair. Right now, someone's going to take a hit. I'll smash his nose without any magic. How dare he call someone a mudblood? The devouring brat.
  "Repeat what you said," I demanded. I started flexing my arms before hitting. It's not right somehow. We're magicians. Even future ones.
  "Oh, you're going to fight us, aren't you?" Malfoy said contemptuously.
  "Yes, if you don't get out of here right away," Harry said bravely.
  "Oh, we're not going to leave at all, are we, guys?" Malfoy chuckled, turning to his companions. "Besides, we're hungry, and you've got a lot of food here."
  I remembered the fighting techniques that Bill showed me last summer. First, drop the burly man on the right, then punch the left one in the nose, and in the meantime they come to their senses to give this blond brute a hard time.
  Goyle reached for the chocolate frogs on one of the seats. I jumped on him, but before I could touch Goyle, he let out a terrifying scream.
  There was Skabers hanging from Goyle's hand, biting into his finger with small, sharp teeth. Crabbe and Malfoy staggered back, and Goyle waved his hand, trying to shake off the rat and howling in pain. And as soon as Skabers finally unclenched his teeth and flew away, hitting the closed window, all three of them instantly disappeared. They probably thought there were more rats hiding in the compartment, or maybe they heard footsteps, because a second later Hermione Granger looked into the compartment.
  "What's going on here? What is it?" she asked, looking at the sweets scattered on the floor and me holding the rat's tail.
  "I think he's passed out," I said, turning to Harry. And then I took a closer look at Skabers. "No... I can't believe it! Imagine, he fell asleep again."
  Skabers was actually asleep. By the way, what else is this about the Hagrid clause? This is where he saw him with Harry. Isn't he a forester and doesn't go further than Hogsmeade Castle? Although Harry seemed to say something about Hagrid bringing him a letter. So stop. Did he take him shopping?! Were all the professors busy?
  "Have you met Malfoy before?" I asked.
  "Yes, I met him at Madame Malkin's when I was buying robes. He was all about kicking Muggleborns out of Hogwarts. And I'm like a Muggle-born myself, since I grew up with Muggles. And then I went shopping with Hagrid, and Malfoy saw him through the window. And he said he was a drunk. After Aunt Petunia's lectures about my drunken parents, I'm just freaking out with such words."
  Yeah, what can I say. By the way, why did they send this bully with him? He hadn't even told him how to get on the platform, and neither had Harry's clothes. Madame Malkin seemed to think that he, like all Muggleborns, only needed robes. But they buy them in their stores.
  "I've heard about his family," I began gloomily, remembering Dad's stories. They were one of the first to come back to our side when You-Know-Who disappeared. They said he had bewitched them. And my father doesn't believe in it. He said that Malfoy's father didn't even need a reason to turn to the Dark Side. They say pure-blooded magicians like to kill Muggles, and here's such a great reason.
  Hermione was still standing in the doorway of the compartment, and I turned to her:
  "Is there anything we can help you with?"
  And why is this girl picking on us. I've never understood my sister and her friend Luna. And here's a total stranger. What's another crush on Harry?
  "You'd better hurry, otherwise you won't have time to change clothes. I was just in the driver's cabin talking to him. He said we were almost there. Have you been fighting here? They're good, nothing to say. We haven't reached school yet, and we've already got into trouble!"
  When will she leave us alone? How to get her out of here. Oh, right.
  "It was Skabers who fought, not us." I glared at the girl. "Why don't you come out and let us change?"
  "Of course. Actually, I just came to see you because there is a terrible fuss in all the carriages, everyone is behaving like little children and rushing through the corridors." Hermione snorted contemptuously, as if to say that she disapproved of such behavior. "By the way, you have dirt on your nose, you know?"
  I glared after her, and Harry stared out the window. Outside the window, where the mountains towered and endless forests stretched, it began to darken, and the sky turned dark purple. The train slowed down.
  Harry and I quickly took off our jackets and pulled on long black robes. My robe was a little too short for me, and sweatpants were sticking out from under it.
  "We'll be at Hogwarts in five minutes." The driver's loud voice echoed through the carriages. "Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be delivered to the school separately. Do not forget the familiars in the compartment. We're taking it with us."
  Harry got nervous, and I turned very pale.
  "Harry, take Hedwig with you, and let her out on the platform. There's an owlery in the castle. She'll find her own way."
  I put Skabers in my bosom. We stuffed the rest of the sweets into our pockets and went out into the hallway, where the rest of the children were already crowding.
  The train slowed down and slowed down and finally stopped. There was a terrible crowd in the corridor, but after a few minutes I finally found myself on an unlit small platform. It was cold outside, and I shivered. Then a large lamp swung over the heads of the guys standing on the platform, and I heard a voice:
  "Freshmen! Freshmen, come here! Hey, Harry, are you all right?" Above the sea of heads towered the shining face of a giant. Interestingly, Hagrid fell into a cauldron with a bone growth potion as a child? And why was he expelled from school?
  "So, is everyone here? Then follow me! And look at your feet! Freshmen, follow me!"
  Slipping and stumbling, we followed Hagrid down a narrow path that sloped sharply down. We were surrounded by such dense darkness that it seemed to me as if we were making our way through a forest thicket. All conversations died down, and we walked in almost complete silence, except for Neville sneezing a couple of times.
  "Just a few more seconds and you'll see Hogwarts!" Hagrid shouted without turning around. "Okay, careful! Everyone over here!"
  "Oh-oh-oh!" there was a collective, delighted exclamation.
  We were standing on the shore of a large black lake. And on the other side of it, on top of a high cliff, stood a giant castle with turrets and loopholes, and its huge windows reflected the light of the stars strewn across the sky.
  "Four people in one boat, no more," Hagrid commanded, pointing to a whole flotilla of small boats bobbing near the shore.
  Harry and I found ourselves in the same boat as Hermione and Neville. Fuck... As they say, you will communicate with whoever you sail with. Not with this nerd. I would have chosen another boat, but Harry balked.
  "Are you seated?" Hagrid, who had a private boat, shouted. "Then go ahead!"
  The flotilla moved, the boats glided across the glass-smooth lake. Everyone was silent, staring at the huge castle. The closer we got to the cliff he was standing on, the more he towered over us.
  "Get down!" Hagrid shouted loudly as we approached the cliff.
  Everyone tilted their heads, and the boats ended up in a thicket of ivy that hid a huge crevice. After passing through the thicket, we entered a dark tunnel, which, apparently, ended right under the castle, and soon moored to an underground pier and disembarked on the rocks.
  "Hey, you!" shouted Hagrid, addressing Neville. The giant was examining the empty boats and apparently noticed something.
  "Oh, Trevor!" Neville yelled happily, stretching out his arms and hugging his toad to him.
  Didn't he perform the familiar binding ritual on his toad? What the hell was he driving her at all? I have a pet rat, she doesn't give a damn about anything anymore after the twins' jokes.
  Hagrid led us up a flight of stone stairs, lighting the way with a huge lamp. Soon everyone was on the dew-soaked lawn at the foot of the castle. Another flight of stairs and now we were standing in front of a huge oak door.
  "Is everyone here?" Hagrid asked. "Hey, have you lost your toad yet?"
  Neville hugged his pet closer.
  After making sure that everything was in order, Hagrid raised his huge fist and knocked three times on the castle door.
  Chapter 6. Sorted by faculty.
  The door swung open. Behind her stood a tall, black-haired sorceress in emerald-green robes. Her face was very stern, and it was better not to argue with such a lady, and in general it was better to stay away from her.
  "Professor McGonagall, these are the first years," Hagrid informed her.
  "Thank you, Hagrid," the witch nodded at him. "I'm taking them."
  She turned and walked forward, ordering us to follow her. We found ourselves in a huge hall-so huge that our house could easily fit in there. Torches burned on the stone walls, just like at Gringotts, the ceiling was lost somewhere above, and a beautiful marble staircase led to the upper floors. We followed Professor McGonagall across the cobblestone floor. As I passed the closed door on the right, I heard the sound of hundreds of voices-the whole school must have already gathered there. But Professor McGonagall wasn't leading us there at all, but into a small, empty dining room. It was crowded with freshmen, and we huddled together, breathing down each other's necks and looking around uneasily.
  "Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall finally greeted us. "The banquet for the start of the school year will begin soon, but before you sit down at the tables, you will be divided into faculties. Selection is a very serious procedure, because from now until graduation, your faculty will become your second family. You will study together, sleep in the same bedroom and spend your free time in a room specially designated for your faculty."
  That's why I was against such a neighborhood in the boat. I have no desire to see Hermione constantly by my side and listen to her lecture me. Percy is enough for me.
  "There are four faculties in the school - Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each of them has its own ancient history, and outstanding wizards and sorceresses have emerged from each. While you are studying at Hogwarts, your achievements will earn your house prize points, and points will be deducted for each violation of the schedule. At the end of the year, the faculty with the most points wins the competition between the faculties, which is a great honor. I hope each of you will be a worthy member of your family. The selection ceremony will begin in a few minutes in the presence of the entire school. In the meantime, you have some time, I advise you to collect your thoughts."
  Her eyes lingered on Neville's robe, which had fallen off so that its clasp was under his left ear, and then on my nose. Damn, should I put some stain cream on him? What I was driving him around with, it was all the twins. Exactly. Harry tried to smooth his unruly hair with a trembling hand.
  "I'll be back here when everyone is ready to meet you," said Professor McGonagall and went to the door. Before she left, she turned around. - Please be quiet.
  Harry sucked in a deep breath.
  "And how will this selection take place?" he asked me.
  "We'll probably have to go through some trials," I replied. "Fred said it hurt a lot, but I think he was joking, as always."
  Harry looked around uneasily. Everyone was terrified and silent, except for Hermione Granger, who stood next to us and whispered to everyone around about which spells she had already learned, and wondered aloud which one she would need at the selection ceremony. Does she even think with her head? Who will demand to conjure the firstborn. Yes, if we have something going well by the middle of the year.
  I stood and prepared for the selection. I hope the twins were joking about the troll after all. Suddenly, heart-rending screams cut through the air, and I saw Harry jump in surprise. Damn, I was scared myself.
  "What?.." He started, but stopped, his mouth hanging open. Just like everyone else.
  Ghosts were seeping into the room through the wall opposite the door-there were probably about twenty of them. Pearly-white, translucent, they glided around the room, talking among themselves and, it seems, not noticing our gathering at all or pretending not to notice. Apparently, they were arguing.
  "And I'm telling you that you need to forget about his sins and forgive him," said one of them, who looked like a little fat monk. "I think we just have to give him another chance..."
  "My dear Monk, didn't we give Peeves more chances than he deserved? He shames and insults us, and in my opinion, he was never really a ghost..."
  The ghost in tights and a round puffy collar fell silent and stared at the freshmen, as if he had just noticed us.
  "Hey, what are you doing here?"
  No one answered.
  "These are the new students!" The Fat Monk exclaimed, smiling at the crowd. "Waiting for the selection, I suppose?"
  Several people nodded uncertainly.
  "I hope you get to Hufflepuff!" The monk continued to smile "My favorite faculty, you know, I once studied there myself." No, I don't need to go to the farmers and employees of the ministry.
  "Get out of here," said a stern voice. "The selection ceremony is about to begin."
  It's Professor McGonagall back. She looked sternly at the ghosts, and they hurriedly began to seep through the wall and disappear one by one.
  "Form a line," the professor commanded, addressing us, "and follow me!"
  Harry stood behind the boy with the blond hair, and I stood behind him, and we left the small hall, crossed the hall we had already visited at the entrance to the castle, and went through the double doors into the Great Hall. Oh, the beauty.
  The hall was lit by thousands of enchanted candles floating in the air above the four long tables where the senior students were sitting. The tables were filled with gleaming gold plates and goblets. At the other end of the hall, the teachers were sitting at the same long table. Professor McGonagall led the first-year students to this table and ordered them to turn their backs to the teachers and face the upperclassmen.
  There were hundreds of faces in front of me, pale in the semi-darkness, like dim lamps. Among the upperclassmen, the silvery, blurry silhouettes of ghosts flashed here and there.
  "It was specially enchanted to look like the sky." Hermione whispered, standing next to him again. "I read it in The History of Hogwarts."
  It was hard to believe that it was actually a ceiling. It seemed to me that the Great Hall was under the open sky. Even though I'm used to magic, it's really fascinating. There are no clouds today either, which is good. I don't even want to think about it if it was raining. It is not customary to help children at school. As you can do magic, you also take care of yourself with charms. Some even collect their first-aid kits so that they don't have to go to the hospital wing for nothing.
  I heard a sound and, looking down at the ceiling, saw that Professor McGonagall had placed a very ordinary-looking stool in front of a row of first-year students and placed a pointed Magic hat on the seat. The hat was patched, worn, and terribly dirty.
  Everyone in the room was staring at the Hat, and I began to look at it carefully, too. There was complete silence in the hall for a few seconds. And then the Hat moved. The next moment, a mouth-like hole appeared in her, and she began to sing:
  "Maybe I'm ugly to look at,
  But don't judge me harshly.
  You can't find a smarter hat than me.
  Whatever you say.
  Hats, top hats, and bowlers
  Prettier than me, no doubt.
  
  But if they were smarter than me,
  I would eat myself for lunch.
  I can see through all your thoughts,
  Don't hide anything from me.
  Put me on and I'll let you know,
  With whom you are destined to study.
  
  Perhaps you will find
  Gryffindor, the glorious dark,
  That the brave men study there.
  Their hearts are full of courage and strength,
  Besides, they are noble.
  
  Or maybe,
  Hufflepuff is your destiny,
  Where no one is afraid of work,
  Where everyone is loyal,
  And they are full of patience and perseverance.
  
  And if there's something wrong with your brain,
  Have you been attracted to knowledge for a long time,
  There is humor and strength to gnaw granite.,
  Then your way is to the Ravenclaw table.
  
  Maybe you're destined to be in Slytherin.
  Find your best friends.
  There are cunning people going to their goal,
  No self-conscious ways.
  
  Do not be afraid of me, put on bravely,
  And I will predict your fate more accurately.,
  Than someone else will do it.
  You're in good hands.,
  Even though I'm armless, alas,
  But I'm proud of myself."
  As soon as the song ended, the entire audience applauded unanimously. The hat bowed to all four tables. Her mouth disappeared, she fell silent and froze.
  What freaks! I'll get back at them for the troll. Damn, and Percy and my parents were silent when I asked them about the sorting ceremony. Everyone has to go through it on their own... at least give them a hint or something.
  "So, all each of us will need to do is try it on?" I whispered. "I'm going to kill that liar Fred, because he told me we were going to have to fight the troll."
  Harry forced a smile. I hope I get to Gryffindor. The main thing is that this nerdy Granger doesn't get there. Although what should she do with us? She's on her way to Ravenclaw.
  Professor McGonagall stepped forward, holding a long roll of parchment in her hands.
  "When I say your name, you will put on your hat and sit on a stool," She said. "Let's get started. Abbott, Hannah!"
  A girl with white pigtails and a pink face, either from embarrassment or fright, stumbled out of the line, went to a stool, took a Hat and sat down. The hat, apparently, was a large size, because, once on Hannah's head, it covered not only her forehead, but even her eyes. And after a moment...
  "HUFFLEPUFF!" the Hat shouted loudly. Those sitting at the rightmost table burst into applause. Hannah got up, went to this table and sat down in an empty seat. I noticed that the Fat Monk who was hovering at the table waved at her affably.
  "Bones, Susan!"
  "HUFFLEPUFF!" the Hat shouted again, and Susan hurriedly scurried to her desk, sitting next to Hannah.
  "Booth, Terry!"
  "RAVENCLAW!"
  Now there was applause at the second table on the left, and several seniors rose from their seats to shake hands with Terry, who joined them.
  Mandy Brocklehurst also went to the Ravenclaw faculty table, and Lavender Brown became the first new member of the Gryffindor faculty. The table on the far left exploded with cheers, and I saw my brothers among the shouting.
  Millicent Bulstrode was assigned to Slytherin.
  I started to worry. What if they send me to another faculty?
  "Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"
  "HUFFLEPUFF!"
  Sometimes the hat, as soon as it appeared on the head of another freshman or freshgirl, almost instantly called the faculty, and sometimes she thought. So, Seamus Finnigan, the blond boy standing in front of Harry, sat on a stool for almost a minute until the Hat sent him to the Gryffindor table.
  "Hermione Granger!"
  Apparently, Hermione, unlike me, was looking forward to her turn and had no doubt of success. When she heard her name, she almost ran to the stool and in the blink of an eye put a hat on her head.
  "GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the Hat.
  I groaned, despite all my doubts, I believed that I would end up where my brothers were, and I didn't want to study with the pushy and omniscient Hermione.
  I wasn't the only one nervous. When Neville Longbottom was called, the same boy who kept losing his toad, he managed to stumble and fall before even reaching the stool.
  The hat thought seriously before shouting "GRYFFINDOR." Well, where did he go? He belongs in Hufflepuff, according to what I know about him. Hereditary herbologists. Neville, upon hearing his verdict, jumped up from his chair and rushed to the table where the students of the faculty were sitting, forgetting to take off his hat. The whole room roared with laughter, and Neville, catching himself, turned around and ran back to hand the Hat to Morag MacDougal.
  When Malfoy was called, he walked out of the line with a terribly important look, and his dream came true in the blink of an eye - the hat, barely touching his head, immediately screamed:
  "SLYTHERIN!"
  Well, I didn't even doubt it. Malfoy joined his friends Crabbe and Goyle, who had previously been selected for the same faculty, and looked extremely pleased with himself. There were fewer and fewer freshmen who had not passed the selection process.
  Moon, Nott, Parkinson, the Patil twin girls, then Sally-Ann Perks, and finally...
  "Potter, Harry!" Harry took a step forward, and lights of surprise flashed across the room, accompanied by loud whispers.
  "Did she say Potter?"
  "The same Harry Potter?"
  Before the Hat was placed on Harry's head, a huge room filled with people stared at him, leaning forward to get a better look at him. I wonder where he will end up?
  Harry gripped the seat of the stool tightly with both hands. A couple of minutes have passed and now:
  "GRYFFINDOR!"
  I wonder if he was arguing with the hat. Harry took off his hat and walked slowly to his desk. Percy jumped up from his chair, grabbed Harry's hand and started shaking it, while Fred and George screamed at the top of their voices.:
  "Potter is with us! Potter is with us!"
  After shaking hands with everyone, Harry plopped down on an empty chair, finding himself right in front of the ghost in tights that I saw before the ceremony began. The ghost patted his hand.
  Behind us was the main table, where the teachers were sitting. Hagrid was sitting in the corner, and when he caught Harry's eye, he gave him the thumbs-up, and Harry smiled back. And in the center of the table was a large golden chair, resembling the throne on which Albus Dumbledore sat. Dumbledore's silver hair shone brighter than the ghosts, brighter than anything in the hall.
  There was also Professor Quirrell, a nervous young man. Right now, Quirrell had a big purple turban on his head, so the professor looked very strange. The ceremony was coming to an end, and there were only three of us left. Lisa Turpin was enrolled in Ravenclaw, and now it's my turn. I even turned green with fear. I walked over to the stool, collapsed on it, and McGonagall put a hat on my head. And a second later, the Hat screamed loudly:
  "GRYFFINDOR!"
  Harry applauded loudly along with the others until I plopped down next to him. Well, the twins are sitting far away from me. And unfortunately Percy is sitting almost opposite.
  "Excellent, Ron, just excellent," Percy praised me with an important look, while the last one on the list, Blaze Zabini, was already heading for the Slytherin table. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Magic Hat out of the hall.
  I looked at the empty gold plate in front of me. I just realized that I'm insanely hungry. It seemed that I had eaten the sweets I bought on the train not a few hours ago, but several centuries ago. Albus Dumbledore rose from his throne and spread his arms wide. He had a radiant smile on his face. He looked as if nothing in the world could please him more than the students of his school sitting in front of him.
  "Welcome!" He said. "Welcome to Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. These are the words: Oaf! A bubble! The remainder! A trick! That's it, thank you all!"
  He's weird. Although at his age, such behavior is excusable. How old is he, a hundred and eighty years old? Dumbledore sat down in his seat. The audience burst into cheers and applause. Harry sat and was surprised and silent.
  "Is he... is he a little crazy?" Harry asked uncertainly, turning to Percy, who was sitting on his left.
  "Is he crazy?" Percy asked absently, but then caught himself. "He's a genius! The best magician in the world! But you're right, he's a little crazy. How about some fries, Harry?"
  The plates on the table were filled to the brim with food. There were so many dishes on the table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steaks, boiled potatoes, fried potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, meat gravies, ketchup and, inexplicably, mint lollipops.
  I immediately attacked the food. She was absolutely gorgeous.
  "It looks good," the ghost in tights remarked sadly, watching Harry eat a steak.
  "Do you want to..." Harry began, but the ghost shook his head.
  "I haven't eaten for almost four hundred years. I don't have any need for food, but the truth is, I don't have enough. By the way, I don't think I've introduced myself. Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Delphington, at your service. The ghost who lives in Gryffindor Tower."
  "I know who you are!" I blurted out. "My brothers told me about you - you're Almost a Headless Nick!"
  "I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy," The ghost began in a stern tone, but Seamus Finnigan beat him to it. The blond-haired boy who stood in front of Harry in the line.
  "Almost headless? How can you be almost headless?"
  Damn, not at the table. Sir Nicholas looked a little displeased, as if the conversation hadn't gone where he wanted it to go.
  "Just like that," he replied irritably, tugging at his left ear.
  The head separated from the neck and fell onto the shoulder, as if held on a spring and activated by pressing on the ear. Obviously, someone tried to behead him, but did not finish the job. The Almost Headless Nick's head was resting on his shoulder, smiling contentedly as he watched the expressions on the freshmen's faces. Then he pulled on his right ear and his head snapped back into place. The ghost cleared his throat.
  Damn, I've lost my appetite. But fuck you. I'm going to eat! Unfortunately, I'm hungry almost all the time. Reaching out, I helped myself to fried chicken and began to eat.
  "So, to the new students of the Gryffindor faculty! I hope you will help us win this year's competition between the faculties? Gryffindor has never gone so long without a reward. For the past six years in a row, Slytherin has won. The Bloody Baron, the ghost of Slytherin's cellars, has become almost unbearable.
  I looked towards the Slytherin table and saw a creepy-looking ghost with bulging empty eyes, an elongated bony face, and clothes stained with silver blood. The Baron was sitting next to Malfoy, who was not at all enthusiastic about such company.
  "How come he's covered in blood?" Seamus blurted out, who for some reason was very interested in this question.
  "I've never asked," Almost Headless Nick remarked delicately.
  When everyone had eaten, the plates suddenly emptied, becoming perfectly clean again and shining so brightly in the candlelight, as if there was no food on them. But just a moment later, a sweet appeared on them. Ice cream of all kinds, apple pies, fruit cakes, chocolate eclairs and donuts with jam, biscuits, strawberries, jelly, rice puddings...
  While I was filling my plate with a variety of desserts, and Harry was reaching for a treacle tart, we started talking about families at the table.
  "Personally, I'm half-on-half," Seamus admitted. "My dad is a Muggle, and my mom is a wizard. Mom didn't tell him anything until after they got married. I understood that he wasn't happy at all when he found out the truth."
  Everyone laughed. Yeah, I don't envy Seamus.
  "And you, Neville?" I asked.
  "I... well, my grandmother raised me, she's a magician," Neville began. "But my whole family was convinced that I was a real squib. My uncle Algy kept trying to catch me off guard so that I could create some kind of miracle. He really wanted me to be a magician. So, one day he crept up on me while I was standing on the pier and pushed me into the water. And I almost drowned. In general, I was the most ordinary - until I was eight years old. When I was eight, Algy came in for tea, caught me, and stuck me out the window. I was hanging upside down there, and he was holding my ankles. And then my aunt Enid offered him a cake, and he accidentally opened his hands. I flew from the second floor, but I didn't crash - it was like I turned into a ball, bounced off the ground and bounced down the path. They were all delighted, and Grandma even burst into tears of happiness. You should have seen their faces when I received the letter from Hogwarts - they were afraid that they wouldn't send it to me, that I wasn't really a wizard. My uncle Algy happily gave me a toad.
  Couldn't he have tied her to the boy? I listened to what Percy and Hermione, who were sitting on our left, were talking about. However, I might have guessed: Hermione, of course, was talking about classes.
  "I really hope we start studying right now. We have so much to learn. Personally, I'm most interested in transfiguration, you know, the art of turning something into something else. Although, of course, this is considered a very difficult task.
  Yes, it's very difficult, but as a future golem lord, I need it. It's good that I can practice on a chess set.
  Don't count on much. You'll start with the little things, you'll turn matches into needles, something like this.
   I warmed up, softened, and felt my eyes start to close. Harry was blinking sleepily next to him. In order to stay awake, I stared wide-eyed and began to stare around, finally burying my gaze in the teacher's desk. Hagrid was drinking from a large goblet, Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore, and Professor Quirrell, who had not taken off his stupid turban, was talking to an unknown teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin. Apparently this is Snape.
  "Ouch!" Harry suddenly slapped his forehead with his palm.
  "What happened?" Percy asked.
  "N-n-nothing," Harry managed to say.
  "Who's that talking to Professor Quirrell?" He asked Percy.
  Oh, you already know Quirrell? I don't wonder why he's so nervous - you get nervous here when Professor Snape is sitting next to you. He teaches you how to mix magic potions, but they say he doesn't like it at all. He's a good scholar, a potion master. And his students just piss him off. And what did he forget at school? Everyone knows that he wants to take Professor Quirrell's place. And still he's a great expert on the Dark Arts, this Snape.
  Harry watched Snape for a while. I was no longer interested in anything. I was full and wanted to sleep.
  When everyone had their fill of dessert, the sweets disappeared from the plates, and Professor Dumbledore rose from his throne again. Everyone fell silent.
  "Hmmm!" said Dumbledore loudly. Now that we're all full, I'd like to say a few more words. There's something you need to learn before the semester starts. First-year students should remember that all students are prohibited from entering the forest located on the school grounds. Some undergraduates should also keep this in mind for their own good...
  But there are a lot of plant ingredients growing there, and animals can be used as ingredients, if they don't kill you themselves, of course. I definitely have nothing to do there until the fourth or fifth year. And at night it's better not to go there at all. Rumor has it that a pack of werewolves lives in the Forbidden Forest.
  Dumbledore's shining eyes rested for a moment on the red heads of my brothers. Although you can go to the edge of the forest, Hagrid lives nearby. There shouldn't be anything dangerous there.
  "At the request of Mr. Filch, our school superintendent, I remind you that you should not work miracles during recess. And now about Quidditch practice - it starts in a week. Anyone who would like to play for the teams of their faculties should contact Madame Hooch. Finally, I must inform you that this academic year, the right-hand side of the corridor on the third floor is closed to anyone who does not want to die a painful death."
  Harry laughed, but there were very few people as funny as him. So, I don't like this. I can smell trouble with my ass. My brothers are definitely going to be there. And then why should we bury them?
  "He's joking, right?" Harry muttered, turning to Percy.
  "Maybe," Percy replied, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's weird because he usually explains why we can't go anywhere. For example, everything is clear about the forest - there are dangerous animals there, everyone knows that. And here he should have explained everything, but he doesn't say anything. I think he should have told us, the elders, at least." Percy gets nervous looking at the twins too. Even though he grumbles at us, he loves his family.
  "Now, before we go to bed, let's sing the school anthem!" Dumbledore shouted.
  I noticed that all the teachers had strange smiles on their faces. Something's not right here.
  Dumbledore shook his wand as if he were chasing away a fly that had landed on its end. A long golden ribbon burst out of the wand, which began to rise above the tables, and then crumbled into words hanging in the air.
  "Everyone sings to their favorite tune," said Dumbledore. "So, let's get started!"
  And the whole hall screamed:
  "Hogwarts, Hogwarts, our beloved Hogwarts, teach us something.
  Young and old, bald and shaggy,
  Age is not important, but only the essence is important.
  The wind is blowing in our heads right now,
  They are empty and dull, and there are piles of dead flies,
  But there will always be a place for knowledge in them,
  So teach us at least something.
  If we forget anything, you remind us.,
  And if we don't know, you explain it to us.
  Do your best, our beloved Hogwarts,
  And we'll try not to let you down."
  Everyone sang as they wanted, some softly, some loudly, some cheerfully, some sadly, some slowly, some quickly. And naturally, everyone finished singing at different times. Everyone had already fallen silent, but the twins were still singing the school anthem, slowly and solemnly, like a funeral march. Dumbledore began conducting by waving his wand, and when they finally finished, it was he who clapped the loudest.
  "Oh, the music! - he exclaimed, wiping his eyes: it looks like Dumbledore shed tears of emotion. "Her magic overshadows what we do here. Now go to sleep. Trot - march!"
  The freshmen, led by my brother, walked past the seniors still chatting at their desks, left the Great Hall and went up the marble staircase.
  My legs felt like lead again, but not from excitement, but from fatigue and fullness. I was very sleepy and completely oblivious to the fact that the people depicted in the portraits hung in the corridors were whispering to each other and pointing at the freshmen with their fingers. I took it for granted that Percy had taken us through secret doors twice, one hidden behind sliding panels and the other hidden behind a long tapestry hanging from the ceiling. Yawning and barely able to move our legs, we climbed one staircase after another. I waited patiently for us to reach our destination, and then Percy suddenly stopped.
  I shook myself and froze warily.
  Crutches floated in the air in front of us. As soon as Percy took a step forward, the crutches turned threateningly in his direction and began to attack. But they didn't hit him, but stopped a few centimeters away, as if saying that he had to leave.
  "This is Peeves, our poltergeist," Percy whispered, turning to us. And then he raised his voice: "Peeves, show yourself!" A long fart answered him.
  "Do you want me to go to the Blood Baron and tell him what's going on here?"
  There was a pop, and a small man with unpleasant black eyes and a big mouth appeared in the air. He was hanging cross-legged between the floor and the ceiling, and pretended to be leaning on crutches, which he clearly didn't need.
  "Oh-oh-oh!" he drawled, with a malicious chuckle. "Little freshmen! Now we're going to have some fun."
  A man hanging in the air suddenly swooped down on us, and everyone ducked their heads together.
  "Get out of here, Peeves, or the Baron will find out about this, I'm not kidding!" Percy said sharply.
  Peeves stuck out his tongue and disappeared, dropping his crutches on Neville's head. We could hear him walking away from us, banging something on the knight's armor displayed in the corridor out of spite.
  "You should watch out for him," Percy warned as we moved on. "The only one who can control him is the Bloody Baron, and Peeves doesn't even listen to us elders. Here we are."
  And the bloody baron only helps Slytherins. Сool. Well, I'll consider it a workout. I wish I could remember the way.
  We were standing at the end of the corridor in front of a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.
  "The password?" the woman asked sternly.
  "Kaput Draconis," Percy replied, and the portrait slid aside, revealing a round hole in the wall.
  Everyone made their way through it on their own, only the clumsy Neville had to be pushed. The round, cozy Gryffindor Common Room was filled with deep upholstered armchairs. Percy showed the girls the door to their bedroom, and the boys entered through another door. We went up a spiral staircase, the room was in one of the towers, and finally we found ourselves in a bedroom. There were five large four-poster beds, covered with dark red velvet curtains. The beds were already made. Everyone was too tired to talk about anything else, so we silently pulled on our pajamas and climbed into bed. I settled down next to Harry's bed. He chose a bed next to the window. That's a jerk, it's going to blow there.
  "We had a great meal, didn't we?" I muttered, behind the heavy curtains. I stare at Skabers in disbelief. So, are you hungry? Get out of here, you Skabers! Can you imagine, Harry, he's chewing on my sheets!"
  Chapter 7 the first lessons.
  Harry has become my friend, but it's exhausting. Every time we left the classroom, there was a huge crowd of students staring at him in the hallway. They stared, pointed, and wouldn't let him pass. There were constant whispers and we had to make our way through the crowd. I moved like an icebreaker and dragged the embarrassed boy along with me. Well, at least he moves his legs fast, his escapes from his cousin have an effect.
  There were one hundred and forty-two stairs at Hogwarts. Some of them were wide and spacious, others were narrow and shaky. There were stairs that took us to a completely different place on Friday than they did on Thursday. There were stairs where several steps suddenly disappeared at the very moment when I was going down or up them. So, going up these stairs, it was necessary to jump.
  There were enough problems with the doors, too. Some of them did not open until they were politely requested. Others opened only if they were touched in a certain place. Still others turned out to be fake, but in fact there was a wall.
  It was very difficult to remember the location of stairs, doors, classrooms, corridors and bedrooms. It seemed that everything at Hogwarts was constantly changing, and today everything was different from yesterday. The people depicted in the portraits went to visit each other. And I was convinced that the knight's armor standing in the corridors was capable of running. Well, the upperclassmen gave us a map in the living room that shows the main routes to the classrooms where classes are held.
  Ghosts also added to the hassle. There have never been any problems with the Nearly Headless Nick, the ghost of Gryffindor Tower and, therefore, our ally. On the contrary, he was always happy to show the freshmen how to get where they needed to go. But Peeves was more dangerous than two closed doors and a staircase leading nowhere-especially if you meet him when you're late for class.
  Peeves dropped paper baskets on freshmen's heads, yanked carpets out from under them, threw pieces of chalk at them, or, thanks to his invisibility, sneaked up unnoticed and suddenly grabbed their noses with a hoarse cry: "Gotcha!".
  It seemed that nothing and no one could be worse than Peeves, but it turned out that this was not entirely true. Argus Filch, the school's caretaker, turned out to be a much more unpleasant person. On the very first morning, Harry and I caught his attention-unfortunately, in a bad way. Filch caught us trying to open one of the doors. Unfortunately, it turned out that it was behind this door that the corridor on the third floor, which Albus Dumbledore had mentioned at the banquet, began. Filch refused to believe that we were just lost. The caretaker was sure that we specifically wanted to enter the forbidden territory, and threatened to lock us in the dungeon. But at the most critical moment, Professor Quirrell, who was passing by, saved us.
  That old fart. No, to take us to class, he also detained us.
  Filch had a cat named Mrs. Norris, a skinny, dusty-gray creature with bulging, glowing eyes, almost the same as Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. As soon as she noticed that someone had violated the rules - had taken at least one step beyond the forbidden line - and she immediately disappeared. And two seconds later Filch would appear, snuffling heavily. Clearly a familiar. And he's chasing her like a young man. Is he even human? Filch knew all the secret passages better than anyone else at school - with the possible exception of my brothers-and appeared as suddenly as if he were a ghost. We hated him, and for many it was the limit of their dreams to dare to kick Mrs. Norris.
  But finding the right office was still half the battle, because classes were sometimes much more difficult than finding a particular room. Magic wasn't just about waving a wand and saying a few strange words.
  Every Wednesday at midnight, we looked at the telescopes, studied the night sky, wrote down the names of different stars and memorized how the planets move. Three times a week we were taken to the greenhouses located behind the castle, where a short, plump lady, Professor Sprout, taught us herbology, the science of plants, and told us how to take care of all these strange plants and fungi and what they are used for. I paid attention, just like I did when caring for magical creatures. Although it was conducted on a case-by-case basis. The professor was already old and sick. I guess I'll have to teach the animals from the pictures in Scamender's book.
  The most tedious subject was the history of magic, which were the only lessons the ghost taught. Professor Binns was already very old when he fell asleep one day in the staff room right in front of the fireplace, and the next morning he came to class without a body. Beans was talking in a terrible monotone and without stopping. The students hurriedly wrote down names and dates for him and confused Emerick the Evil with Urik the Strange. Unfortunately, he delivered his lectures in such a monotonous voice that it took a terrible effort to stay awake. I'll teach you from the textbook. He's only talking about goblin rebellions anyway. The book is much more interesting, I've read it.
  Professor Flitwick, who taught spells, was so tiny that he stood on a stack of books to see the students from behind his desk. It is said that he is a half-goblin who has become a master of dueling in Europe. They say he was a member of the fighters' guild. Should I ask him to join the dueling club? Oh, fuck, it's been shut down. At the very first lesson, he got acquainted with the course, took a magazine and began to read out the names in order. When he reached Harry, he squeaked excitedly and disappeared from sight, falling off his stand. Is he making fun of Muggleborns? Children from magical families all take him seriously.
  But Professor McGonagall was completely different. I was right when I saw her and told myself that it was better not to mess with her. Smart but strict, she gave a very harsh speech as soon as we came to her class for the first time and sat down. And Harry and I were also late because of Filch.
  "Transfiguration is one of the most difficult and dangerous areas of magic that you will study at Hogwarts," she began. "Any violation of discipline in my lessons, and the offender will leave the classroom and will not return here. I've warned you."
  After such a speech, everyone felt a little uneasy. Then Professor McGonagall went into practice and turned her desk into a pig, and then back into a table. Everyone was terribly amazed and began to ache with the desire to start practicing themselves as soon as possible, but soon realized that it would be a long time before we could learn how to turn furniture into animals.
  Then Professor McGonagall dictated to us some very incomprehensible and confusing sentences that we had to memorize. What a nightmare. Okay, I also understood what she was saying, as did Hermione. But Harry was sitting with glassy eyes and blinking uncomprehendingly. I need to give him a hint about languages. Let him learn them in the summer. Hmm, but the school librarian should have an artifact for the most common languages. Then McGonagall gave each of us a match and said that we should turn these matches into needles. I wish I knew what this needle looks like. I tried to remember what my mother used. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger's match had changed shape slightly - Professor McGonagall showed the whole course Hermione's match, which was sharpened at one end and covered with silver, and smiled at her. This smile amazed everyone no less than the transformation of the table into a pig, because it seemed that Professor McGonagall did not know how to smile at all.
  We were all looking forward to Professor Quirrell's defense against the Dark Arts class, but Quirrell's classes were more like a humorous show than something serious. His office smelled like garlic, which Quirrell hoped would scare away the vampire he'd met in Romania. The professor was very afraid that he was about to come to Hogwarts to deal with him.
  The turban on Quirrell's head didn't add to his seriousness either. The professor claimed that this turban was given to him by an African prince, whom he helped to get rid of a very dangerous zombie. But no one really believed in this story. Firstly, because when Seamus Finnigan asked how Quirrell defeated the zombies, Quirrell blushed and started talking about the weather. And secondly, because the turban smelled strange, and the twins assured everyone that it was not a gift from an African prince, but just a precautionary measure. According to them, Quirrell was covered with garlic cloves under his clothes, and garlic was also hidden in his turban, because the professor, fearing vampires, wanted to be completely protected. He even slept in what he wore to school, so that the vampire wouldn't take him by surprise. Considering the smell that came from the professor, I agreed with them.
  During the first few days of my studies, I became convinced that I was learning no worse than others, even without looking at the wand. Many students were born and raised in Muggle families and had no idea who they were until they received a letter from Hogwarts. Besides, the freshmen had so much to learn that even I, who was born into a family of wizards and had five older brothers besides my parents, didn't have much advantage over the others.
  Friday was a great day for Harry and me. We were finally able to go down to the Great Hall for breakfast, never once losing our way.
  "What do we have there today?" Harry asked, sprinkling sugar on his oatmeal.
  "Two potions classes - we'll study with the Slytherins," I replied. "Professor Snape is teaching the classes, and he is their dean. They say that he is always on their side in everything, protecting them from the rest of the teachers and giving them the best marks. That's just how we'll see if that's the case."
  "I wish McGonagall would always stick up for us," said Harry thoughtfully.
  Professor McGonagall was the dean of the Gryffindor faculty, but that didn't stop her from giving us a huge homework assignment the day before yesterday. If she protected us like Snape protected his snakes, it would be good. And the tasks, well, fuck it, magic is interesting. I need transfiguration in the future.
  While we were having breakfast, the mail arrived. During breakfast, at least a hundred owls flew into the Great Hall with loud hoots. They began circling the tables, looking for their hosts and dropping letters and parcels into their laps.
  This morning, Hedwig landed between a sugar bowl and a saucer of jam and dropped a sealed envelope into Harry's plate. Harry immediately opened it. Before that, she had never brought him a single letter and lived in an owl house, sometimes flying in to visit her wayward master.
  Harry borrowed a pen from me and scribbled on the back of a letter:
  "Yes, I'd love to, see you later, thanks."
  He handed the letter to Hedwig. After finishing, we went to the dungeons to Snape's office.
  It was cold here-much colder than in the castle itself-and quite scary. All along the walls there were glass jars in which alcohol-soaked animals swam.
  Snape, like Flitwick, began classes by opening a magazine and getting to know the students. And, like Flitwick, he stopped when he reached the last name Potter.
  "Oh, yes," he said softly. "Harry Potter. Our new celebrity."
  Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle giggled mockingly, covering their faces with their hands. Having finished his introduction to the class, Snape looked around the audience with an attentive gaze. His eyes were black. They were cold and empty, and for some reason they looked like dark tunnels.
  "You are here to learn the science of making magic potions. A very precise and subtle science," he began.
  Snape spoke almost in a whisper, but the students clearly heard every word. Like Professor McGonagall, Snape had a gift for effortlessly controlling the classroom. As in Professor McGonagall's classes, no one dared to whisper or engage in outside activities.
  "Silly waving of a magic wand has nothing to do with this science, and therefore many of you will find it hard to believe that my subject is an important component of magical science," Snape continued. I don't think you can appreciate the beauty of a slow-boiling cauldron exuding the most subtle odors, or the gentle power of liquids that creep through a person's veins, bewitching his mind, enslaving his senses.... I can teach you how to bottle fame, how to brew triumph, how to plug death. But all this is only on condition that you are at least somewhat different from the herd of blockheads that usually comes to my lessons.
  Unfortunately, potions don't attract me from the word at all. It is much easier to buy a ready-made emergency kit, and not bother with their preparation in field conditions.
  After this short speech, the silence in the course became absolute. Harry looked at me blankly. I didn't object to the fact that, in Snape's opinion, I was probably a crooked sheep. Hermione Granger shifted impatiently in her chair, looking as if she couldn't wait to prove that she was definitely not one of the herd of blockheads.
  "Potter!" Snape said suddenly. "What happens if I mix crushed asphodel root with wormwood tincture?"
  He glanced at me, but I was equally taken aback by the question. Even though I've been reading a textbook on potions, a lot has already disappeared from my mind. But Hermione Granger clearly knew the answer, and her hand shot up into the air.
  "I do not know, sir," Harry replied.
  A contemptuous expression appeared on Snape's face.
  "Well, well... Obviously, fame is not everything. But let's try it again, Potter. Snape stubbornly refused to notice Hermione's raised hand. "If I ask you to bring me a bezoar stone, where will you look for it?"
  In the medical bag, of course. I couldn't quite remember where it was mined.
  Hermione continued to pull on her hand, barely able to keep from jumping up from her seat. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were shaking with silent laughter. And I myself could only laugh at her antics. I could barely contain myself. Damn, don't laugh, Harry will be offended.
  "I do not know, sir," Harry confessed.
  "It doesn't seem to have occurred to you to read your textbooks before coming to school, does it, Potter?!"
  Snape continued to ignore Hermione's trembling hand.
  "Okay, Potter, what's the difference between wolfsbane and monk's hood?"
  Hermione, unable to sit still any longer, stood up, stretching her arm towards the ceiling.
  Will this know-it-all ever calm down? She doesn't let anyone else answer in class at all.
  "I do not know," Harry said softly. "But I think Hermione knows that for sure, why don't you ask her?"
  Laughter was heard. Harry looked around nervously. So did he think they were laughing at him? I'll have to calm him down. In the meantime, it's better to sit quietly and keep quiet.
  "Sit down!" Snape snapped, turning to Hermione for a moment. "And you, Potter, remember: from the root of asphodel and wormwood, a soporific potion is prepared, so strong that it is called the drink of living death. A bezoar is a stone that is extracted from the stomach of a goat and is an antidote to most poisons. And wolfsbane and monk's hood are the same plant, also known as Aconite. Do you understand? So, everyone write down what I said!
  Everyone hurriedly grabbed their quills and rustled the parchment. But Snape's quiet voice cut through the uproar.
  "And for your insolent answer, Potter, I'm putting a penalty point on Gryffindor's account."
  It seems that for the first-year students of the Gryffindor faculty, Snape's lessons promised to be not the most pleasant. After Snape sat Harry down, something else completely bleak happened. Snape divided the students into pairs and gave them the task of preparing a simple potion to cure boils. He circled the classroom, rustling his long black robe, and watched as we weighed dried nettle leaves and ground snake teeth in mortars. Snape criticized everyone except Malfoy, whom he obviously liked. At the moment when Snape called everyone to admire how Malfoy cooks horned slugs, the dungeon was suddenly filled with poisonous green smoke and loud hissing. Neville somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron, and it turned into a huge shapeless blob, and the potion they were preparing in the cauldron flowed onto the stone floor, burning holes in the shoes of nearby students. A moment later, everyone climbed onto their chairs with their feet, and Neville, who was doused by the potion splashed out of the cauldron, groaned in pain as red blisters appeared on his arms and legs.
  "Idiot!" Snape growled, sweeping the spilled potion into a corner with a flick of his palm. "As I understand it, before removing the cauldron from the fire, you added porcupine quills to the potion?"
  Neville, instead of answering, grimaced and began to cry - now his nose was covered with red blisters.
  "Take him to the hospital wing," Snape said to Seamus with a grimace. And then he turned to us, who were working at the next table. "Potter, why didn't you tell him not to add porcupine quills to the potion? Or did you think that if he made a mistake, you would look better than him? I'm putting another penalty point on Gryffindor's account because of you."
  Harry blushed at the injustice. He was about to object when I kicked him under the table.
  "Don't push yourself," I whispered. "I've heard that Snape can do a lot of damage if he gets angry."
  An hour later, we left the dungeon and went up the stairs. Harry was really upset.
  "Cheer up," I encouraged him. "Fred and George are also having bad luck in Snape's lessons. Do you know how many fines they got from him? Hey, can I come with you to Hagrid's?"
  Since he is a forester, he knows everything about the plants in the forbidden forest and the animals that inhabit it.
  At five minutes to three we left the castle and walked through the school grounds to Hagrid's hut. He lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. A hunting bow and a pair of galoshes hung over the front door.
  When Harry knocked on the door, we heard someone frantically scratching at it from the other side and barking deafeningly. A moment later, Hagrid's booming voice reached us:
  "Get back, Fang, get back!"
  The door opened a crack, and a huge face overgrown with hair appeared behind it.
  "Come on in," Hagrid invited. "Get back, Fang!"
  Hagrid opened the door wider, barely holding the huge black dog by the collar. Hagrid did not know the name of this breed, although he explained that wild boars were hunted with such dogs.
  There was only one room in the house. Hams and gutted pheasants hung from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling over an open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed covered with a patchwork quilt.
  "You... er-er make yourself at home... Get settled," said Hagrid, releasing Fang, who rushed over to me and started licking my ears. It was obvious that Fang, like his master, looked much more dangerous than he really was. He should have salivated less.
  "This is Ron," Harry introduced me.
  Meanwhile, Hagrid was making tea and putting cupcakes on a plate. The cupcakes made contact with the plate with such a sound that there was no doubt about their freshness - they had withered and turned to stone a long time ago. So, it would be necessary to somehow carefully abandon them. My teeth are precious to me.
  "Another Weasley, eh?" asked Hagrid, looking at my freckled face and red hair. "I've spent half my life hunting your brothers. They're always... well... They're trying to get into the Forbidden Forest, but I have to catch them, yes!"
  And why am I not surprised? It was easy to break our teeth on the stone cupcakes, but Harry and I pretended that we really liked them and told Hagrid how our first days at school had been. Fang was sitting next to Harry, resting his head on his lap and drooling profusely over his school uniform. I took the cupcake in my hand and tried to soak it in a cup. Hmm, but nothing like that. But anyway, I would have eaten something more substantial.
  Harry and I were terribly amused when we heard Hagrid call Filch an old bastard.
  "And this cat is his, Mrs. Norris... uh, I wish I could introduce her to Fang. You probably don't know, do you! As soon as I get to school, she follows me... uh... He's on my heels, watching everything and sniffing around. And you can't hide from her, and you can't deceive her... She can smell me and she'll find me everywhere. Filch must have trained her on me."
  And why would Filch do that? There's something fishy here, but Harry likes Hagrid, so I won't interrupt.
  Harry told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid, like me, advised Harry not to worry because Snape doesn't like the vast majority of the students.
  "But I think he hates me."
  "It's nothing!" Hagrid objected. "Why would he?"
  However, Hagrid slightly looked away as he said these words. Another problem. Snape definitely reacts to his friend in some way too aggressively. Even my brothers don't piss him off.
  "What about your brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked hurriedly, turning to me. "I really liked him: he was too good with animals."
  Had Hagrid deliberately changed the subject? While I was telling Hagrid about Charlie, who studies dragons in a nature reserve with access from Romania, Harry picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the cover for the kettle. It was a clipping from The Prophet. Harry started discussing the safe robbery with Hagrid, but Hagrid just mumbled and looked away.
  After chatting a little more, we went home. On the way, Harry talked about the package that Hagrid took from the bank on the day of the robbery. Hmm, and what was there?
  Chapter 8
  During the first week at school, Malfoy and we barely bumped into each other - the only classes we had together were Professor Snape's. However, after returning from Hagrid's, Harry and I noticed a notice posted in the Gryffindor Common Room, which caused us to groan. Broomstick flights began on Tuesday, and the first-year students of the Gryffindor and Slytherin faculties had to learn to fly together.
  "That's great," said Harry gloomily. Just what I've always dreamed of. Making a fool of himself in front of Malfoy - and not just a fool, but a fool sitting on a broom and not knowing how to take off.
  "How do you know who's going to look like a fool?" I answered reasonably. "Of course, I know that Malfoy brags to everyone that he is a great Quidditch player. But I'm willing to bet on my old broom that it's all nonsense.
  In the end, kids get baby brooms with built-in speed and height limiters. Jeanie and I had one. It's old, of course, but you can fly.
  Malfoy really talked too much about flying. He loudly regretted that freshmen were not accepted into the faculty teams, and told long boastful stories about where and how he flew on a variety of brooms. The stories usually ended with Malfoy managing to evade Muggle helicopters with incredible dexterity and at the very last moment.
  He's driving, Muggle cars don't fly into our magical world, and it's also problematic to come in. There are muggle-repelling charms on all the entrances to the magical world. However, Malfoy was not the only one who talked about this topic - to hear Seamus Finnigan, he spent his entire childhood on a broom. And I was ready to tell anyone who would listen to me about how I once took Charlie's old broom and narrowly avoided a collision with a hang glider. He embellished it, of course, but what you won't do for the attention of the girls. Lavender also loved listening to my stories.
  In general, everyone who was born into wizarding families talked incessantly about Quidditch. I've already gotten into a serious argument with Dean Thomas over Quidditch. Dean loved football, and I thought there was nothing interesting about a game that was played with just one ball and the players were forbidden to fly. The next day, I was pointing at the images of the players on the WestHam soccer team poster that hung over Dean's bed. I tried to make them move. I couldn't believe that in Muggle photographs, everyone was motionless, unlike in photographs of the wizarding world, where people appeared and disappeared, winked and smiled.
  However, there were exceptions among those born into wizarding families. So, Neville admitted that he had never had a broom in his life, because his grandmother strictly forbade him to even think about flying. I totally agreed with her - Neville managed to get into the most incredible stories, even standing on two legs. He was very clumsy, so giving him a broom was simply scary.
  Hermione Granger, like Harry, who grew up in a Muggle family, was as nervous as Neville about the upcoming flights. If flying could be learned from a textbook, Hermione would already be soaring in the skies better than any bird, but that was impossible. Although Hermione, to her credit, couldn't help but make at least one attempt. At breakfast on Tuesday, she bored everyone at the table by quoting tips and tricks for beginners to fly, which she had learned from a library book called "The History of Quidditch." However, Neville listened to her very attentively, not missing a single word and constantly asking questions. Apparently, he was counting on theory to help him stay on the broom a few hours later. But I was very glad when Hermione's lecture ended with the arrival of the mail.
  Harry hadn't received a single letter since Friday, which, of course, Malfoy hadn't failed to point out. Malfoy's owl - or rather, unlike the others, he had an eared owl, because Malfoy liked to emphasize his originality - constantly brought him packages of sweets from home, which he solemnly opened at the table, treating his friends. Harry's no better, though. His barn owl was the only polar owl in school, but at least they gave it to him and he values it very much. He always goes to the owlery to check on her.
  Anyway, on Tuesday, Hedwig just flew in to check on her wayward master, but Neville's barn owl brought him a small package sent by his grandmother. Neville was overjoyed and, opening the package, showed everyone a small glass ball. The ball seemed to be filled with white smoke.
  "It's a reminder!" Neville explained. "Grandma knows that I forget everything all the time, and this ball tells me that you forgot to do something. Look, you need to take it in your hand, squeeze it tightly, and if pictures appear in it..."
  Neville's face fell as the ball in his hand suddenly began flashing images of textbooks and objects.
  "Well..." Neville said, confused.
  A useful gift. It will help Neville a lot to remember exactly what he forgot. He was trying very hard to do this when Draco Malfoy, who was passing by, snatched the ball from his hands.
  Harry and I jumped to our feet at the same time. It wasn't that we really wanted to fight - after all, there were friends of Malfoy's who outnumbered us very close by - but we couldn't back down either. But then Professor McGonagall stepped in between us, who had a sharper nose for trouble than any Hogwarts teacher.
  "What's happening?" she asked sternly.
  "Malfoy took the reminder from me, Professor," Neville explained.
  Malfoy frowned and dropped the reminder on the table in front of Neville.
  "I just wanted to see, Professor," he said innocently and walked away, hunching his shoulders fearfully.
  He seemed to be trying to shrink down and thereby avoid the possible wrath of Professor McGonagall, who simply wouldn't notice him.
  We're back to eating. This time I got a sausage egg. And Harry, as usual, was pecking at his porridge. And why does he like oatmeal so much? Neville stubbornly held the reminder in his hand, then sniffed and went to get his textbooks.
  ***
  At three-thirty, Harry, me, and the other Gryffindor freshmen hurried over to the flight training area. The day was sunny and clear, a light breeze was blowing, and the grass rustled underfoot. The students descended the hill in a friendly formation, heading for a flat clearing that was as far away as possible from the Forbidden Forest, gloomily swaying the treetops.
  The freshmen from Slytherin were already there, as were twenty broomsticks lying in a row on the ground. I remembered George and Fred complaining about the school brooms, saying that some of them vibrate if you climb too high on them, and some always swing to the left. You need to choose a broom that doesn't look so shabby. Although they all look like they've been honored veterans for a long time.
  Finally, the flight instructor, Madame Hooch, appeared. She had short gray hair and yellow eyes like a hawk's. So, is she drunk? The smell of it is characteristic.
  "Well, what are you waiting for?!" she snapped. "Everyone stands in front of the broom - come on, move it."
  I looked at the broom I had chosen. It was quite old, and several of its rods were sticking out in different directions. Oh, I hope she doesn't break right under me.
  "Extend your right arm over the broom!" Madam Hooch commanded, standing in front of the formation. "And say, "Up!""
  "UP!" Twenty voices shouted.
  The broom jumped into my hand, as did Harry's broom, but most of the other students weren't so lucky. Neville's broom didn't budge at all, and Hermione Granger's broom rolled on the ground for some reason. When Neville uttered the command "Up!", his voice trembled so much that it became clear that he would prefer to stay on the ground.
  Then Madame Hooch showed the students how to sit on a broom so as not to slip off it in the air, and walked along the line, checking how well we were holding our brooms. Harry and I were happy when Madam Hooch abruptly informed Malfoy that he was holding the broom incorrectly.
  "But I've been flying for years!" Malfoy retorted hotly. There was resentment in his voice.
  Then Madame Hooch loudly and clearly explained to him that it just meant that he had been flying incorrectly all these years. Malfoy listened to her in silence, probably realizing that if he continued the discussion, it might turn out that he was not at all the expert he wanted to appear.
  Was Hooch wrong, or did Malfoy really not have a flight teacher?
  "And now, when I blow my whistle, you will kick off the ground with force," said Madame Hooch. "Hold the broom firmly, try to keep it in an even position, rise a meter and a half, and then lower yourself - for this you need to bend slightly forward. So, on my whistle, three, two..."
  But Neville, nervous, twitchy, and clearly terrified at the prospect of being left on the ground alone, shot up before Madam Hooch raised the whistle to her lips.
  "Come back, boy!" Madam Hooch shouted, but Neville was rapidly climbing up. He looked like a cork popped out of a bottle. Two meters, four, six - and I saw Neville's pale face, looking down in fright. I saw Neville's mouth open wide in horror, as he slid off the broom, and...
  boom! Neville's body fell to the ground with an unpleasant sound. Alive. I breathed out a sigh of relief. His broom still continued to rise, and then it lazily glided towards the Forbidden Forest and disappeared from sight. Madam Hooch was leaning over Neville, her face even whiter than his.
  "A broken wrist," I heard her mutter. When Madam Hooch straightened up, her face was visibly relieved. "Get up, boy!" she commanded. "Get up. You're all right." She turned to the other students. "I'll take him to the hospital wing now, and you wait for me and don't do anything. Leave the brooms on the ground. Anyone who touches a broom in my absence will be out of Hogwarts faster than they can say the word "Quidditch." Come on, my dear."
  Madam Hooch hugged a tearful Neville and led him towards the castle. Neville was limping badly.
  As soon as they were far enough away for Madam Hooch to hear anything, Malfoy burst out laughing.
  "Did you see his face? That clumsy one is a real bag! He couldn't even slow himself down with magic."
  The rest of the freshmen from Slytherin joined him.
  "Shut up, Malfoy," Parvati Patil cut him off.
  "Oh, are you standing up for that jerk Longbottom?" Pansy Parkinson, a girl from Slytherin with rough features, asked. "I never thought you liked such fat, whiny boys."
  "Look at this!" Malfoy shouted, rushing forward and picking up something from the ground. "It's the stupid thing his grandmother sent him."
  The reminder glittered in the sunlight.
  "Give her to me, Malfoy," Harry said softly. Everyone froze and turned to look at him.
  "Malfoy grinned impudently."
  "I think I'll put it somewhere for Longbot to take it out later, like up a tree."
  "Give it here!" Harry shouted, but Malfoy jumped on his broom and soared into the air. It seemed that he wasn't lying about the fact that he really could fly, and now he was easily floating above the top of a sprawling oak tree growing near the playground.
  "And you take her away from me, Potter!" he suggested loudly from above.
  Harry grabbed the broom.
  "No!" Hermione Granger screamed, and Harry froze. "Madam Hooch forbade us to do this: you're going to get Gryffindor in trouble."
  Harry jumped onto the broom, kicked off the ground with his feet and took off. He leaned back a little and rose even higher to the surprised screams and screams of horror of the girls left on the ground and my cheers. Harry whirled his broom around, coming face to face with Malfoy. He looked amazed.
  "Give it here!" Harry shouted at him. "Or I'll knock you off the broom!"
  "Really?" Malfoy asked mockingly, but despite his tone, concern appeared on his face. Harry leaned forward and grabbed the broomstick tightly with both hands, and it lunged at Malfoy like a stone flying out of a sling. Malfoy barely managed to dodge. And Harry, rushing past, turned the broom sharply. There was a round of applause from the Gryffindors.
  I was enthusiastically shouting at the sky and clapping my hands.
  "Come on, Harry, get rid of this jerk!"
  "Are you bored, Malfoy?" Harry shouted loudly. "Crabbe and Goyle aren't here to help you."
  Malfoy seemed to have the same idea.
  "Then catch it if you can!" he shouted and, throwing the glass ball high into the sky, rushed down to the ground.
  Harry bent forward and pointed the broom handle down, and the next second he entered an almost vertical dive. The speed was increasing. Harry stretched out his arm without slowing down, and when he was no more than half a meter from the ground, he caught the ball - just in time to straighten the broom. And he rolled gently onto the grass, clutching the ball in his hand.
  "HARRY POTTER!"
  A woman screamed from behind us. I turned around. Professor McGonagall was running towards us. Harry got to his feet, trembling with anticipation of what awaited him.
  "Never... Never in all the time I've been working at Hogwarts..."
  Professor McGonagall stopped short, unable to breathe with excitement, but her glasses glinted fiercely in the sun.
  "How could you... You almost broke your neck..."
  "It's not his fault, Professor..."
  "I didn't ask you, Miss Patil..."
  "But Malfoy..." I tried to explain to my friend that he was about to be punished by a strict dean.
  "That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."
  I noticed the gleeful smiles on the faces of Malfoy and his friends. He waited until the professor turned away and walked away, and then quickly got close to Malfoy and punched him in the nose. Harry staggered after Professor McGonagall, who was heading towards the castle. Harry ran after the professor, and I silently fought with Malfoy. Interestingly, Creb and Goyle did not interfere in our squabbles at all. Cheering his leader on with shouts.
  I hope my friend won't be expelled. I don't think so, though. I've never heard of it. But they can slap you for working out. So thoughts away, we need to get a stronger bastard. I hit him like Bill showed me. Malfoy punched me in the teeth and in the ear. Creb and Goyle suddenly pulled us apart. Damn, I just got a taste of it.
  Harry had already climbed the steps leading to the castle gate and disappeared inside.
  We were left waiting for Madame Hooch. Half an hour later, she returned and we flew for a while. After that, we wandered into the castle discussing what had happened in class.
  I went to get the first-aid kit. For a tincture of mountain ash. I don't want to go to the hospital wing because of my split lips and swollen ear. I'm going to heal up right now, and I'm going to wait for Harry in the great hall.
  ***
  "You're kidding..."
  it was at dinner. Harry had just finished telling me what had happened when Professor McGonagall led him away from the playground. While he was talking, I was enthusiastically eating a pie with beef and kidneys. But now that Harry's finished, I've completely forgotten about the pie, and I haven't even taken the last bite.
  "The hunter?" I was shocked. "But never freshmen... You will probably become the youngest player in the history of Hogwarts for..."
  "...For the last hundred years," Harry finished for him, taking a bite of the pie with gusto. "Wood has already told me this."
  I was so impressed by what I heard, so amazed that I just sat there with my mouth open and couldn't take my eyes off Harry. I even put the pie aside, I was so overwhelmed with emotions. Even my successful fight with Malfoy didn't seem like an achievement anymore.
  "I'm starting training next week," Harry added. Just don't tell anyone. Wood wants it to remain a secret."
  Fred and George entered the room and, noticing Harry, headed towards him - apparently, they were looking for him here.
  "You're doing great," George said quietly. "Wood brought us up to speed. After all, we are also beaters in the national team."
  "I'm telling you, we're definitely going to win the inter-house Quidditch competition this year." Fred assured him. "We haven't won since our brother Charlie graduated from Hogwarts. We'll lose to one faculty or another. But this year we will have a fantastic team. You must be very good, Harry.
  "Wood was jumping up and down with delight when he talked about you."
  "Okay, we have to go," the twins finally realized. "Lee Jordan claims to have found a new secret corridor through which you can get out of the school." Fred and George had barely disappeared when someone we weren't happy about came up to the table. Namely Malfoy, of course, accompanied by his loyal bodyguards Crabbe and Goyle.
  "Last school lunch, Potter?" Malfoy asked mockingly. "Are you going back to the Muggles? What time is your train?"
  "I see you've become much bolder on earth, especially when your two little friends are around." Harry replied coldly. Crabbe and Goyle made displeased faces.
  These two people like to pretend to be brainless mugs. I don't know why they would do that.
  "I can deal with you one-on-one at any time." said Malfoy. "Tonight, if you want. A duel of wizards. No fists, just magic wands. What's the matter with you, Potter? Oh, of course, you've never heard of wizard duels."
  I quickly remembered the rules. It is unlikely that he will adhere to the rules thoroughly, after all, he, like us, has not yet been taught combat magic.
  "He heard me," I quickly got my bearings, standing in front of Malfoy. "I'll be his second, but who will you take?"
  Malfoy looked at his companions, assessing which of them would be more suitable for this purpose.
  "Crabbe," he finally said. "Is midnight okay with you? Then at midnight we are waiting for you in the room where the awards are kept - it is always open."
  Well, duels between elementary school students are prohibited. Harry should explain the situation, otherwise he's just blinking his eyes. When Malfoy walked away, Harry and I exchanged glances.
  "What kind of duel is this?" Harry asked. "And what does that mean: will you be my second?"
  "We need seconds to carry you home if you die," I calmly remarked, and calmly began to eat the already cold pie. I only realized it when I looked at Harry and saw the expression on his face. "But don't worry, deaths only happen in real duels, that is, if real wizards are fighting. And the most you and Malfoy can do is send sparks at each other. You don't know how to do anything yet, and therefore you won't be able to inflict serious damage on each other. By the way, I'm sure he expected you to refuse.
  "What if I wave my wand and nothing happens?" Harry asked.
  "Then throw the wand aside and punch him in the nose," I advised.
  This is certainly a violation, but the duel will still not be according to the rules.
  "Sorry..."
  A girl's voice rang out from behind us. We turned around and Hermione Granger was standing in front of us.
  "Can I eat here in peace?" I said meaningfully.
  Hermione ignored my question, especially since she wasn't looking at me, but at Harry.
  "I overheard what you and Malfoy were talking about..."
  "I bet it's no accident," I interjected.
  "...And I want to tell you that you have no right to wander around the school at night. If you get caught, Gryffindor will get penalty points, and you will definitely get caught." And if you want to know, what you're going to do, ignoring the faculty, is pure selfishness.
  "If you must know, it's none of your business," Harry replied.
  "Goodbye," I ended the conversation.
  That's a pushy girl. I wonder if all Muggleborns are like that?
  ***
  I lay with my eyes open and listened to the steady breathing of Dean and Seamus (there were five of us in the bedroom, but Neville was still in the hospital wing). I've been giving Harry very valuable advice all evening.
  "If he tries to cast a curse on you, you'd better dodge, because I don't remember how to fight them off," and all the same stuff. I told him everything I remembered about magic duels, trying to prepare him better.
  It's eleven thirty," I finally muttered, glancing at my watch. "If we don't want to be late, we have to go."
  We threw our robes over our pajamas, picked up our wands, tiptoed out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and into the Gryffindor common room. A few coals were still flickering in the fireplace. Their light turned the chairs in the room into sinister, hunchbacked black shadows. We were almost at the exit when we heard a voice from the nearest chair:
  "I can't believe you're going to do this after all, Harry."
  The lamp flashed on. Hermione Granger was sitting in an armchair in a pink bathrobe, frowning at us. No, well, will she ever stop meddling?
  "You?!" I whispered furiously. "Go to sleep!"
  "I almost told your brother Percy about it," Hermione snapped. "He's the headman, he would have put an end to this. But I still didn't say anything."
  That's annoying.
  "Come on," Harry said to me. And, pushing aside the portrait of the Fat Lady, he began to make his way through the hole.
  However, Hermione wasn't going to give up so easily. We were already standing in the hallway when she came out of the hole after us and hissed like an angry goose. You don't think about our house, you only think about yourself, and I don't want Slytherin to win house-to-house competitions again. Because of you, we will lose the prize points that I received from Professor McGonagall, but I knew several spells that are necessary for transfiguration.
  "Go away," we whispered together. "Okay, but I warned you. And when you're on the train back to London tomorrow, remember what I told you-that you..."
  We never found out what was supposed to follow this "what are you". Hermione, without finishing, turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady to tell her the password and return back, but found that the painting was empty. The fat Lady had gone to visit someone, which meant Hermione couldn't return to Gryffindor Tower. You didn't need a password to leave the bedroom, you just had to push the portrait aside, but it was impossible to enter the tower without a password, and even more so without a Fat Lady to whom you had to tell this password.
  "What am I supposed to do now?" Hermione asked in a shrill whisper.
  "That's your problem," I said. "That's it, we have to go, we'll be back late."
  But we hadn't even reached the end of the hallway when Hermione caught up with us.
  "I'm coming with you," she said.
  "It's out of the question," we said in unison.
  Do you think I'm going to stand here and wait until Filch grabs me? But if he catches the three of us, I'll say that I tried to talk you out of it, and you'll confirm it, and then they won't do anything to me.
  "You're so arrogant!" I protested loudly.
  "Shut up, both of you!" Harry snapped. "I hear something."
  We heard something like snuffling.
  "This is Mrs. Norris," I breathed, squinting into the darkness.
  But it wasn't Mrs. Norris. It was Neville. He was sleeping soundly on the floor, curled up in a ball, but he woke up immediately and jumped up as soon as we crept closer.
  "Thank heavens you found me!" he exclaimed. "I've been here for hours. Couldn't remember the new password."
  "Keep it down, Neville," I whispered. "The password is "piglet", but that won't help you anymore. The fat Lady has gone somewhere."
  "How's your arm?" Harry asked first.
  "Great." Neville held out his hand and waved it in the air. "Madam Pomfrey made the bones grow back together in one minute."
  "Well, that's good," Harry smiled happily, but frowned, remembering why we were here. " Er... Look, Neville, we have to go somewhere, so I'll see you later..."
  "Don't leave me!" Neville yelled. "With characteristic clumsiness, he tried to get to his feet, but almost fell. I won't stay here alone: while I was lying here, the Bloody Baron sailed past me twice."
  I looked at my watch, and then glared at Hermione and Neville. If Harry and I get caught because of the two of you, I won't rest until I've learned the "ghost curse" that Quirrell told me about and tried it on you. Hermione opened her mouth, maybe to tell me how to cast the "ghost curse," but Harry hissed at her. And, putting his finger to his lips, he beckoned everyone to follow him.
  We tiptoed along corridors lined with squares of light falling from tall windows. We've been lucky so far. We made the last turn, jumped up the last staircase, found ourselves on the third floor and silently crept into the room where the awards were kept. Malfoy and Crabbe weren't here yet, so we got there first.
  Moonlight flooded the room. The crystal boxes sparkled in the moonlight. Goblets, shields with coats of arms, plaques and statuettes shone silver and gold in the dark. We moved along the wall, keeping our eyes on the doors at opposite ends of the room. Harry took out his wand in case Malfoy jumped out of the darkness and attacked him immediately. But no one appeared. It seemed as if someone had slowed down the passage of time - the minutes crept by like hours.
  "He's late, maybe he got cold feet." I whispered.
  A noise coming from the next room made us jump. Before Harry could raise his wand, a hoarse male voice rang out. It didn't belong to Malfoy at all.
  "Take a good sniff, my dear. They must have hidden in a corner."
  It was Filch's voice, addressing Mrs. Norris. Harry waved for us to follow him and quickly tiptoed towards the door opposite the one Filch and his cat were about to appear from. Neville, who was closing the chain, had barely left the room when we heard Filch enter it.
  "They're here somewhere," we heard him mutter. "They're probably hiding."
  Harry looked at us, getting our attention.
  "Over here!" he said soundlessly, carefully articulating, and we began to creep along a long gallery lined with knight's armor. Filch's footsteps could be clearly heard behind him. And then Neville suddenly gave a startled squeak and started running.
  As expected, the clumsy Neville did not manage to escape far. He stumbled, clutching convulsively at me running in front of him. We fell, crashing into a knight in armor standing on a low pedestal. The noise and ringing we raised was enough to wake up the whole castle.
  "LET'S RUN!" Harry screamed, and the four of us ran down the gallery as fast as we could, not looking back and not knowing if Filch was following us.
  We flew through the open door, narrowly missing the door jamb, turned right, ran down the corridor, and then jumped across the next corridor. Harry was the first to run, and we were right behind him. Damn, I can't even figure out where we are.
  We slipped through the tapestry and found ourselves in a secret passage. We ran through it to the end and stopped near the classroom where spell classes were held. Suddenly I realized that somehow we had managed to cover a really huge distance - the room chosen for the duel was far, far away from here.
  "I think we've lost him," Harry managed to say, catching his breath. He leaned his hot body against the cold wall and wiped his sweaty forehead with the sleeve of his robe. Neville, who was standing next to him, doubled over, breathing heavily and muttering something under his breath.
  "I'm... for you... I told you," Hermione gasped, holding her chest with both hands... spoke.
  "We need to get back to Gryffindor Tower," I said. - And as soon as possible.
  "Malfoy tricked you," said Hermione. She hadn't caught her breath yet, but her nature didn't allow her to remain silent. I hope you've already figured that out. He wasn't going to come there. And Filch knew that someone had to be in this room. It was Malfoy who made it clear to him that someone would be there at midnight.
  Unfortunately, she's right, but he's going to pay for it. You can't talk about a duel without exposing yourself, but you can ambush him somewhere and punch him in the face.
  "Come on," Harry waved his hand instead of answering.
  We hadn't taken ten steps when we heard someone turn the doorknob, and Peeves floated out of the office next to us. He noticed us immediately and even squealed with delight.
  "Keep it down, Peeves, please." Harry put his finger to his lips. "You're going to get us kicked out of school."
  Peeves cackled happily.
  "Hanging out at night, little freshmen? Well, well, well, it's not good, kids, it's very bad, they'll catch you."
  "If you don't turn us in, they won't catch us." Harry folded his arms pleadingly across his chest. "Please, Peeves."
  "I should probably call Filch. I just have to. My duty demands it." Peeves spoke in a righteous voice, but his eyes sparkled with an unkind fire. "And it's all for your own good."
  "Get out of the way," I couldn't stand it and swung at Peeves with my hand. I overreacted, and it was a mistake.
  "STUDENTS ARE WANDERING AROUND THE SCHOOL!" Peeves shouted deafeningly. "THE STUDENTS ARE WANDERING AROUND THE SCHOOL, THEY'RE IN THE SPELL CORRIDOR RIGHT NOW!"
  We all ducked under Peeves, who was hanging in the air, and ran as if our lives depended on our speed. But when we reached the end of the corridor, we bumped into a locked door.
  "That's all!" I groaned, vainly banging my shoulder against the door. "It's over with us! We're lost!"
  We could already hear footsteps - it was Filch running towards Peeves' screams.
  "Come on, move over," Hermione commanded sharply. She snatched Harry's wand from his hands, tapped it on the locked lock, and whispered, "Alohomora!"
  Damn, is she a witch or what? Well, who goes to a magic school without a wand? Magicians generally try not to put their tools far away from themselves. After all, we're not witchers to fight hand-to-hand. Too much energy consumption when doing magic without a wand forces you to use concentrators. Some use wands, some use rings, but they are more used as storage devices, some fighters use staffs and enchanted short blades, like Bill.
  The lock rattled, the door swung open, and we quickly slipped inside, closing the door behind us and pressing ourselves against it to hear what was happening in the hallway.
  "Where did they go, Peeves?" Filch's voice reached us. "Come on, I'm waiting."
  "Say "please.""
  "Don't piss me off, Peeves! So, where did they run to?"
  "Please tell me first, or I don't know anything," persisted Peeves. Filch was clearly annoyed by his monotonous voice.
  "Well, okay, please!"
  "I DON'T KNOW! I don't know anything!" Peeves shouted happily. "Ha ha ha! I warned you: you should have said "please" before. Ha ha! Ha ha ha!"
  We heard Peeves whizzing off somewhere and Filch cursing furiously.
  "He thinks this door is locked," Harry whispered. "I hope we get out, but fuck off, Neville!"
  Neville had been tugging at Harry's sleeve for a minute or two now.
  "What do you want?" Harry said with displeasure, turning to him.
  As soon as we turned around, we immediately saw this very "what". At first, I thought I was just imagining it-after everything I've been through today, it would just be too much. However, what I saw was a reality, and a nightmarish one at that.
  I was wrong when I assumed that this door leads to another room. We were not in a room, but in a forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now I understood why the students were strictly forbidden to enter this corridor.
  A giant dog stared into our eyes, filling the entire hallway from floor to ceiling. It had three heads, three pairs of rolling, mad eyes, three noses twitching nervously and sniffing at uninvited guests, three open slobbery mouths with yellow fangs from which drool hung in ropes. For now, the dog remained relatively calm and only sniffed at us, staring at us with all six eyes. The only reason we're still alive is because our sudden appearance took the dog by surprise. But it seemed that the dog was already beginning to realize what had happened. This was evidenced by a low growl, reminiscent of distant thunderclaps, escaping from three mouths.
  Harry grabbed the door handle. Right now, it was a choice between death and Filch-and personally, I prefer Filch. In the blink of an eye, we were out the door, slamming it behind us, and running so fast that it looked like we were flying. Before escaping, I turned around and threw a locking spell at the door. Filch was no longer in the hallway. He probably left here to look for us somewhere else. But his absence didn't make us happy or sad-we didn't care right now. All we wanted was to get as far away from this monster as possible. We didn't stop until we were on the seventh floor by the portrait of a Fat Lady. Fortunately, she has already returned.
  "Where have you been?" she asked us, looking at our flushed, sweaty faces.
  "It doesn't matter," gasped Harry, panting, "piglet, piglet!"
  The portrait slid aside, and we made our way through a hole in the wall into the Common living room and collapsed wearily into armchairs, trembling from the long run and everything we had experienced.
  It took a long time before one of us broke the silence. Neville looked like he'd never talk again.
  "What do they think?" I was the first to find my voice. "It's necessary to think of something like this - to keep this dog at school. This creature clearly needs to exercise, not stay locked up.
  And Cerberus live in the area of the magical world adjacent to Greece. He's too cold here. Hermione came to her senses too, and her bad mood immediately returned.
  "Why do you need eyes, I'd like to know?" She asked with displeasure. "Didn't you see what that dog was standing on?
  "On the floor," Harry guessed. "Actually, I didn't look at his paws-I had enough heads."
  "No, he wasn't standing on the floor, but on the hatch. It's clear to a fool that he's guarding something there." Hermione stood up, giving us an indignant look.
  "I hope you're pleased with yourself," she said sharply. "We could all have been killed... or, even worse, expel from school. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed. I watched her go with my mouth open.
  "No, we don't mind," I managed when Hermione was gone. "You'd think someone had invited her to come with them..."
  Chapter 9.
  Malfoy couldn't believe his eyes when he saw Harry and me at breakfast the next morning - we were tired, but we were glowing with happiness. It seems that Malfoy already had no doubt that he would not meet us again, because instead of breakfast, having been expelled from school, we would take the train to London.
  Unlike Malfoy, we were really happy. After waking up and discussing what happened last night, Harry and I decided that meeting the three-headed dog was a great adventure and we would like to have another one in the same spirit. And now we were wondering what might need such heavy security.
  I reached for the fried eggs and sausages.
  "It's either something very valuable or something very dangerous," I said.
  "Or both at the same time," Harry said thoughtfully.
  However, that's all we knew about this mysterious object, This means that its length is about five centimeters. But it was too little to guess or even guess what kind of object it was.
  As for Neville and Hermione, they didn't seem to care what was in the hiding place where the dog was standing. All Neville could think about was never being around the three-headed dog again. And Hermione just ignored Harry and me, refusing to talk to us. However, if we consider that she was a terrible know-it-all, always climbed ahead and loved to command, then we were only glad of her silence.
  More than anything in the world - except the desire to find out what lies in the forbidden corridor, Harry and I wanted to get back at Malfoy. And to our great joy, a week later we had such a chance. It happened at breakfast, when owls carrying mail flew into the Great Hall.
  Everyone sitting in the hall immediately noticed six owls carrying a long bundle through the air. I was just as curious about what was in the package as everyone else. The owls swooped over Harry's desk and dropped the package right into his plate of fried bacon. The plate broke. No sooner had six owls gained height than a seventh appeared, dropping a letter on the bundle. Harry opened the envelope first. He barely concealed his joy and handed the letter to me.
  "DO NOT OPEN THE PACKAGE AT THE TABLE," the letter read. "Your new broom, Nimbus 2000, is in it, but I don't want everyone to know about it, because otherwise all the freshmen will start asking to be allowed to have personal brooms. At seven o'clock in the evening, Oliver Wood is waiting for you at the Quidditch pitch, where the first practice session will take place.
  Professor M. McGonagall"
  Holy shit, it's the new racing broom itself.
  "Nimbus 2000!" I groaned with envy. "I've never even held one in my hands."
  We quickly left the hall to have time to examine the broom before the start of the first lesson. But as we approached the stairs, Crabbe and Goyle appeared in our path. Malfoy appeared from behind them, snatched the bundle from Harry and felt it appreciatively.
  "It's a broom," he stated flatly, tossing the bundle back to Harry. There was anger and envy on his face. But only if I was envious in a kind way, then Malfoy's envy was black. "You're not going to get out of this one, Potter, "Freshmen are not allowed to have their own brooms."
  I couldn't stand it. It was such an opportunity to mock him that I couldn't resist.
  "It's not just some old broom", I looked at Malfoy with superiority and grinned defiantly. "This is the Nimbus 2000. What did you say, Malfoy, about that broom you left at home? Isn't this the Comet 260? The broom, of course, is not bad, but there is no comparison with the Nimbus 2000."
  "What do you know about broomsticks, Weasley? You wouldn't even have enough money for half a pound," Malfoy muttered in response. "You and your brothers have probably been saving up for an ordinary broom for many years, buying twigs each."
  Before I could reply, Professor Flitwick appeared next to Malfoy.
  "I hope you boys aren't fighting here." he squeaked.
  "Professor, Potter's got a broom," Malfoy blurted out and froze, clearly pleased with himself.
  "Yes, yes, it's okay," Professor Flitwick smiled broadly at Harry. "You know, Potter, Professor McGonagall told me about the exception she made for you. What kind of model is this?"
  "It's a Nimbus 2000, sir," Harry explained, "I have to thank Malfoy for getting me such a broom." Crabbe and Goyle parted, and we went up the stairs, shaking with silent laughter. Malfoy looked furious and helpless at the same time.
  "The funny thing is, it's true," Harry giggled as they reached the top of the marble staircase. "If Malfoy hadn't grabbed Neville's reminder, I wouldn't have joined the team..."
  "So you think this is a reward for breaking the school rules?" An angry voice rang out from behind. We looked back and saw Hermione Granger coming up the stairs. She looked disapprovingly at the bundle in Harry's hands. I don't think you've been talking to us," Harry said.
  "And don't change your mind in any way," I added it. "Especially since it brings us so much benefit."
  Hermione proudly walked past, lifting her nose to the ceiling. After school, Potter and I rushed upstairs together to finally unpack his Nimbus.
  "Oh, my God!" I breathed out admiringly, unable to take my eyes off the miracle that had opened up to us. Even Harry, who didn't know much about brooms, was impressed. The mahogany handle was polished to a shine, the long straight rods and the gold letters "Nimbus-2000" - in short, the broom was just a sight. In the evening, Harry took a broom and went to his first workout.
  ***
  In two months, the castle has become my home. I felt comfortable at Hogwarts, and I made a friend here. In addition, it was very interesting here, including in the lessons, which have become much more exciting since the first-year students have mastered the basics and started studying a more complex program.
  When we woke up on the morning of Halloween, we felt the delicious smell of baked pumpkin, an indispensable attribute of this holiday. And then, in a spell lesson, Professor Flitwick announced that, in his opinion, we were ready to start practicing. Ever since Professor Flitwick made Neville's toad fly around the classroom several times, I, like everyone else, have been dying to master this art.
  Professor Flitwick divided all the students into pairs. Harry's partner turned out to be Seamus Finnigan, which made Harry very happy. But I was unlucky - I got Hermione Granger as my partner. Although Hermione didn't seem thrilled either. It was hard to tell which of us looked more annoyed. Hermione hasn't spoken to Harry or me once since the day Harry got the broom.
  "Don't forget the brush movements that you and I practiced," Professor Flitwick was squeaking "The brush rotates easily, and sharply, and with a whoosh. Remember, it's easy, and sharp, and with a whoosh. And it is very important to pronounce the magic words correctly - do not forget about the wizard Baruffio. He said "es" instead of "ef" and as a result found himself lying on the floor with a buffalo standing on his chest."
  It was not easy to achieve the result. I did everything as Professor Flitwick taught, but the pen I was trying to lift into the air wouldn't come off the desk. An impatient Seamus quickly lost his temper and started poking the feather with his magic wand, which sparks flew out, as a result, he managed to set it on fire - Harry had to extinguish the feather with his pointed hat.
  "Wingardium Leviosa!" I shouted, waving my arms like a windmill. But the pen in front of me remained motionless. What's wrong? Is it really a wand?
  "You're pronouncing the spell wrong," Hermione said unhappily. "It should be pronounced like this: Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, the syllable "gar" should have a long "a"."
  "If you're that smart, try it yourself," I growled back. "Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her robes, waved her wand, and cast a spell. The pen lifted off the desk and hovered over Hermione at a height of about one and a half meters.
  "Oh, great!" Professor Flitwick applauded. "Everyone saw that Miss Granger had succeeded!"
  "By the end of the class, I was in a very bad mood. No wonder no one can stand her," I muttered as we tried to make our way through the crowd of schoolchildren that filled the hallway. "To be honest, she's a real nightmare."
  Finally, we got out of the crowd. But at that moment, someone bumped into Harry from the side, apparently not noticing him.
  It was Hermione. She immediately darted back into the crowd.
  "I think she heard what you said." he said worriedly, turning to me and rubbing his side.
  "So what?" I waved it off, but I felt a little uncomfortable. "She should have noticed by now that no one wants to be friends with her."
  Hermione didn't show up for the next lesson, and no one knew where she was until the evening. It wasn't until we were going down to the Great Hall for the Halloween banquet that Harry and I overheard Parvati Patil telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying in the women's bathroom and wouldn't calm down, asking to be left alone.
  I felt really uneasy. But a few moments later, when we entered the festively decorated Great Hall, I forgot all about Hermione. Food! And we'll visit this crybaby later. Moreover, I won't go to the women's bathroom, I still don't want to be known as a pervert. Thousands of bats sat on the walls and ceiling, flapping their wings, and several thousand more flew over the tables like low-hanging black clouds. It made the candles stuck in the pumpkins flutter. Just like at the banquet on the occasion of the start of the school year, there were empty golden dishes on the tables, on which suddenly appeared a wide variety of dishes.
  I was helping myself to a plate of baked pumpkin when Professor Quirrell ran into the hall. His turban was askew, and there was fear on his face. Everyone in the room froze, watching as Quirrell ran up to Professor Dumbledore's chair and, leaning heavily on the table, groaned:
  "The troll! The troll... in the dungeon... I was in a hurry to inform you..." And Quirrell, having lost consciousness, collapsed to the floor. There was a commotion in the hall. It took several loud purple fireworks exploding from Professor Dumbledore's wand for silence to return.
  "Prefects! Dumbledore rumbled."
  Take your faculties to their dormitories immediately! Percy immediately jumped up from the table, clearly feeling at home.
  "Follow me quickly!" he commanded. "Freshmen, stick together! If you listen to me, nothing terrible will happen! Let the freshmen through, let them come to me! No one is left behind! And everyone follow my orders- I'm the headman here!
  "How could a troll get into the castle?" Harry asked me as we hurried up the stairs.
  "Don't ask me how I know." I shrugged my shoulders. "Actually, it's strange - they say that trolls are terribly stupid. Maybe Peeves let him in, decided to make a joke before Halloween?"
  Judging by the busy traffic on the stairs, the evacuation was in full swing. Only the Halfpuff students lived up to the reputation of their faculty: they crowded into one of the corridors and prevented the others from passing. And the Slytherins were led upstairs somewhere. It makes sense, though. They have a living room in the dungeons. Harry and I were making our way through the crowd when Harry suddenly grabbed my sleeve.
  "I just remembered: Hermione!" Harry suddenly yelled.
  "What about Hermione?" I didn't understand.
  "She doesn't know about the troll."
  Damn, I completely forgot about her. I bit my lip. If it's my fault she dies, I won't forgive myself.
  "Okay," I said abruptly after a few seconds, which it took me to summon all my courage. "But if Percy sees us..."
  Crouching down, we climbed into the middle of a group of Halfpuff students, who finally moved towards their tower- that is, in the opposite direction. No one paid any attention to us, and after a while we emerged from the crowd, quickly ran down an empty side aisle and rushed to the women's toilets. The goal was just around the corner. We were already turning the corner when we heard quick footsteps behind us.
  "It's Percy!" I hissed, grabbing Harry and hiding with him behind a large stone griffin. However, it wasn't Percy who ran past us, but Professor Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from sight.
  "What is he doing here?" Harry whispered. "Why isn't he in the basements with the other teachers?"
  "Do you think I know?"
  We tiptoed into the next corridor, just where Snape had disappeared, whose retreating footsteps we could clearly hear.
  "He's heading for the third floor," Harry started, but I held up my hand.
  Fuck Snape, we have more important things to do. The air smelled like a mixture of dirty socks and a public toilet that hadn't been cleaned in years. Is it just me, or have we found a troll?
  Can you smell it?
  Harry sniffed and wrinkled his nose. The smell was followed by a sound-a low roar and the shuffle of giant soles. I pointed to the end of the corridor, and something huge was moving in our direction. We shrank back into the shadows, watching as IT emerged onto a moonlit stretch of corridor. It was something terrifying, about four meters tall, with dull granite-gray skin, a lumpy body resembling a boulder, and a tiny bald head that looked more like a coconut. The troll had short legs as thick as wood and flat, calloused feet. His arms were much longer than his legs, and therefore the giant club that the troll held in his hand dragged along the floor behind him, and the smell coming from him could have struck better than any club.
  The troll stopped, froze at the doorway, and bent down to look inside. He wiggled his long ears, seemingly trying to make some kind of decision. The process was delayed because the troll's brain, judging by the size of its head, was tiny. However, in the end, the decision was made and the troll, hunched over, crawled into the room.
  "Look, the key's still in the lock," Harry whispered, "We can lock him in there."
  "It's not a bad idea," I replied nervously. As we crept towards the door, my mouth went dry. Praying to heaven that the troll would not leave the room, we crept very close. And then Harry darted forward, slammed the door, and turned the key in the lock.
  "There is!"
  Elated with success, flushed with pride, we headed back the way we came from, but before we could reach the corner, we heard a desperate scream of terror. And it was coming from the room that Harry had locked a few seconds ago.
  "Oh, no," I said softly, turning pale like a Bloody Baron.
  "This is a women's bathroom!" Harry gasped.
  "Hermione!" We exclaimed after a moment. The last thing we wanted to do was do what we had to do, but what choice did we have?
  Abruptly, we turned around and rushed back to the door. Harry's hands were shaking with fear, and he couldn't turn the key in the lock. Finally, he succeeded. He pulled the door open and we ran inside. Hermione Granger was standing against the wall directly in front of the door. She shrank back, as if she were trying to ghost through the wall. She looked like she was going to pass out. The troll was approaching her, brandishing a club and knocking down the shells attached to the walls.
  "Distract him!" Harry shouted at me desperately. He grabbed a washbasin plug that was lying on the floor and threw it at the wall with all his might. The troll froze a few meters away from Hermione. He awkwardly turned around to see who had made such a noise. His small evil eyes stared at Harry. The troll hesitated, deciding who to attack, and then took a step towards Harry, raising his club.
  Hey, you empty head! I shouted, having managed to reach the corner of the toilet room, and threw a broken piece of metal pipe at the troll.
  The troll didn't even seem to notice that a piece of iron had hit him in the shoulder. But he heard the scream and stopped again, turning his ugly face towards me and giving Harry the opportunity to run around him and get next to Hermione. Come on, let's run! Let's run! Harry shouted, trying to pull Hermione towards the door. But she didn't move or give in, as if rooted to the wall. Her mouth was open in horror.
  Harry's screams and the echoes echoing through the room, ricocheting off the walls, made the troll even more confused. He was clearly confused when he had so many goals in front of him, and did not know what to do. Suddenly the troll roared and took a step towards me: I was the closest to him and I had nowhere to run.
  And then Harry ran up and jumped on the troll from behind, managing to grab onto his neck and wrap both arms around it from behind. What the fuck is he doing?! The troll, given his size, of course, could not feel that little skinny Harry was hanging on him, but even the troll could not help but notice that a long piece of wood was being shoved into his nose.
  At the moment of the jump, Harry was holding a wand in his hands, which he pulled out for some reason after flying into the room. He obviously did it subconsciously, because as a freshman, a wand could not help him in the fight against a troll. Magic has almost no effect on them at all. But it turned out that Harry had pulled it out for a reason, and when he jumped into the troll's neck, wrapping both arms around it from behind, the wand in his right hand stuck deep into the troll's nostril.
  Howling in pain, the troll spun around and swung the club, while Harry hung on to it, clinging to his neck with all his might. At any second, the troll could throw him to the floor or flatten him with a blow from a club. Hermione, almost fainting from terror, sank to the floor. And I pulled out my magic wand, completely unaware of what I was going to do, and shouted the first thing that came to mind, pointing at the club.
  "Wingardium Leviosa!" It worked! The club broke free from the troll's hand, rose into the air and hovered for a moment, then slowly turned over and crashed with a terrible crash on the head of its owner. The troll staggered and fell to the floor with such force that the walls of the room shook.
  Harry got to his feet. He was shaking and couldn't catch his breath. I froze in place with my wand raised, looking at the result of my work. I did it. It worked! I need to practice more, because I can do magic. I'm taking a deep breath. Ugh, we need to get out of here before the troll wakes up.
  "Is he... is he dead?" Hermione broke the silence first.
  "I don't think so," Harry replied, finding his voice second. I guess he's just knocked out. Harry bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll's nose. She was covered in what looked like dried gray glue. Ugh, his snot is disgusting. Harry wiped his wand on the troll's trousers.
  The slamming of doors and loud footsteps made us all look up. We didn't even realize what a fuss we were making here. Someone downstairs must have heard the heavy thuds and the roar of the troll, and a moment later Professor McGonagall burst into the room, followed by Professor Snape, followed by Professor Quirrell. Quirrell looked at the troll, whined softly, and immediately plopped down on the floor, clutching his heart.
  And this coward is doing business with us? It would be better to continue studying Muggle studies. They say he was a good teacher.
  Snape bent over the troll, and Professor McGonagall glared at Harry and me. I've never seen her so angry. Her lips were even white. Or is it out of fear for us? Damn, here we are.
  "What, let me ask you, were you thinking about?" There was cold fury in Professor McGonagall's voice. Harry squinted at me, but I didn't move from my place and still held my wand in my raised hand. "You're just lucky to be alive. Why aren't you in the bedroom?"
  Snape glanced at Harry's face with a knife-sharp gaze. Harry stared at the floor. Suddenly, a faint girl's voice came from the shadows.
  "Professor McGonagall, they were here because they were looking for me."
  "Miss Granger!"
  Hermione somehow managed to get to her feet.
  "I went to look for the troll because... Because I thought I could handle him on my own... Because I've read everything in the library about trolls, and I know everything about them..."
  I dropped my wand in surprise. Who would have believed that Hermione Granger - to think of Hermione Granger - was lying to her teacher's face?! Even if I didn't know who Hermione was, it still wouldn't have occurred to me that she might be lying," her voice sounded so true.
  "If they hadn't found me, I would have been dead by now," Hermione continued. "Harry jumped on his neck and stuck his wand in his nostril, and Ron enchanted his club and knocked him out. They just didn't have time to call any of the professors. When they appeared, the troll was about to kill me."
  Harry and I tried to make our faces look as if this story hadn't surprised us at all - as if everything had happened exactly as Hermione described. I stared at Hermione in shock.
  "Well, in that case..." said Professor McGonagall thoughtfully, looking at all three of them. "Miss Granger, you stupid girl, how could you possibly think that you could subdue a mountain troll on your own?!"
  Hermione lowered her head. Harry and I were silent. I would never have thought that Hermione had violated the school rules. But now she presented everything as if she had deliberately committed a serious violation. And all this in order to get us out of trouble. It was as unexpected as if Snape had started handing out sweets to the students.
  "Miss Granger, it's your fault that five penalty points are being credited to Gryffindor!" Professor McGonagall said dryly. "I had a very high opinion of you and was very disappointed by your misconduct. If you're okay, you'd better go back to Gryffindor Tower. All the faculties finish the interrupted festive dinner in their living rooms. Hermione left the room. Professor McGonagall turned to Harry and me.
  "Well, even after listening to Miss Granger's story, I still maintain that you were just lucky. Nevertheless, not every freshman is able to cope with an adult mountain troll. Each of you gets five bonus points. I will inform Professor Dumbledore of what has happened. You can go now."
  We hurriedly left the bathroom and didn't say a word until we were two floors up and finally breathed a sigh of relief.
  "You could have given us more than ten points," I grumbled.
  I would never have thought that the lives of children in this Britain's best school were valued so low. You could make a memorial plaque for us.
  "You mean five," Harry corrected me. "Don't forget that she gave Hermione five points."
  "She did well to get us out of trouble," I admitted. Although we actually saved her. "We probably wouldn't have had to save her if we hadn't locked the troll in the toilet," Harry reminded him. He's right about that, of course. And it's worth apologizing to her.
  We came to the portrait of a Fat Lady.
  "Piglet," we said in one voice and climbed inside.
  It was crowded and noisy inside. Everyone made up for what they had missed at the banquet by eating the food that had been brought upstairs. Everyone except Hermione, who was standing off to the side, waiting for us. Harry and I walked up to her and froze, not knowing what to say. And then each of us said, "Thank you."
  "Granger, I'm sorry I said all that nonsense. You're the best student in the class. Do you want me to be your friend?"
  Harry nodded.
  "Me too."
  "Thanks boys. I really want to."
  And we hurried to the table.
  From that moment on, Hermione Granger became our friend. There are events that you can't help but feel sympathy for each other. And the victory over the four-meter mountain troll is undoubtedly one of such events.
  Chapter 10. a match between Gryffindor and Slytherin.
  In early November, the weather turned very bad. The mountains around the castle changed from green to gray, the lake began to resemble frozen steel, and the ground turned white with frost every morning. From the windows of the tower, I saw Hagrid defrosting brooms on the flight training area several times. Hagrid was wearing a long mole fur coat, huge boots insulated with beaver fur, and rabbit-fur mittens. It's also a good thing that winters in magical Britain are warmer than in the Muggle part of it. And there are no prolonged rains. But there are dangerous animals living in forests and fields. And I'm not talking about the mountains at all. They are usually favored by dragons and wyverns.
  The Quidditch competition has started at school. On Saturday, Harry had to take to the field for the first time after several weeks of regular and hard training. The Gryffindor team met with the Slytherin team. If they won, the Gryffindor national team would come in second place in the school championship.
  Almost no one saw Harry playing Quidditch, as Wood decided, stating that Harry was the team's secret weapon, which meant that his Skills should be kept secret. But the news that Harry had become a seeker on the Gryffindor team had somehow leaked outside the national team.
  Since Harry and I saved Hermione from the mountain troll, she has become much more relaxed about school discipline violations, and it has become much more pleasant to communicate with her. The day before Harry's first match, the three of us went out to the frozen courtyard during recess. And there Hermione showed us her skills - she took a glass jar of jam out of her pocket, put it on the ground, said something, waved her wand, and suddenly a bright blue flame burst into the jar. The most interesting thing was that the jar of fire could be safely moved from place to place and even put in a pocket - the blue flame warmed, but did not burn, and the glass of the jar remained cold. I wonder if she can set someone on fire like that, or is it just for heating?
  We were warming ourselves around the jar, with our backs to the fire, when suddenly Snape appeared in the courtyard. That's what the hard one brought him. I noticed that the professor was limping badly. Harry, Hermione, and I huddled closer around the fire so that Snape wouldn't notice it. We had no doubt that it was forbidden to light a fire in the courtyard. Snape didn't see the fire, but after looking at our guilty faces, he found another reason to quibble. I had no doubt that Snape was looking for him, and diligently.
  "What have you got there, Potter?" Snape asked dryly, coming closer to us.
  As usual, my friend became the object of criticism.
  Harry held the History of Quidditch in his hands and showed the book to the professor.
  "It is forbidden to take library books out of the school building." Snape informed him. "Give me the book. For your offense, you receive five penalty points."
  "He just came up with this rule." Harry muttered angrily, staring after the limping Snape. "I wonder what's wrong with his leg?"
  "I don't know, but I hope it really hurts." I said vindictively.
  ***
  It was especially noisy in the Gryffindor Common Room that night. Harry, Hermione, and I were sitting by the window, Hermione checking our spell homework. She never let us copy, "Then how do you learn anything?" - but she agreed to check our homework, and so we still got the right answers from her. Even though we had to dig through a lot of literature, it greatly accelerated the process. And our grades have become higher. But I still don't like to write. And Harry actually had to learn to write with pens. His handwriting was terrible. At least the blots can be magically removed. And the feathers are usually enchanted.
  Harry was shaking with excitement about the outcome of the game. He stood up decisively, telling Hermione and me that he would go look for Snape and ask him to return the book to him.
  "Better me than you," Hermione and I blurted out at the same time, but Harry shook his head. He returned half an hour later. Pale and thoughtful.
  "Did you succeed?" I asked, looking at Harry, who had appeared in the room. "Hey, what's the matter with you?"
  In a whisper, Harry told us everything he had seen. Snape got bitten by a cerberus, wow. What was he doing there, was the troll in the dungeons, or was he later bitten?
  "Do you understand what all this means?" Harry exhaled, finishing his story. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog, and it happened on Halloween!"
  Actually, Snape hadn't limped at Halloween yet. Well, okay, I won't quibble. Even if I wanted to shield that greasy-haired bastard, Harry wouldn't believe me.
  "Ron and I were looking for you to warn you about the troll, and we saw him in the hallway - he was heading that way! He's hunting for what the dog is guarding! And I'm willing to bet my broom that he let the troll into the castle to distract attention and sow panic, and calmly steal what he's hunting for!"
  Hermione looked at him with wide eyes.
  "No, that's impossible," she replied. "I know he's not a very nice person, but he wouldn't try to steal what Dumbledore is hiding in the castle."
  "Honestly, Hermione, to hear you say that, all the teachers are just saints", I replied hotly. "Personally, I agree with Harry." Snape could be involved in anything. But what exactly is he after? What is this dog guarding?
  ***
  The next morning turned out to be cold but sunny. The great hall was filled with the delicious smell of fried sausages and joyful chatter - everyone was anticipating an exciting spectacle. Today is the match between Gryffindor and Slytherin.
  "You should at least eat something," Hermione said worriedly, seeing that Harry was sitting in front of an empty plate.
  "I don't want anything," Harry snapped.
  "At least one slice of toasted bread," she insisted.
  "I'm not hungry," Harry replied decisively, shaking his head vigorously for emphasis.
  "Harry, you need to get strong." Seamus Finnigan came to Hermione's rescue. Hunters are always rougher to play against than everyone else.
  "Thanks, Seamus," Harry said with bitter irony.
  I helped myself to a full plate and ate quickly. After thinking about it, he took a couple of sausages and put them on Harry's plate.
  "Eat up, buddy. I won't let you out of the table until you've had breakfast."
  Wood nodded in agreement. After making sure that this bespectacled man ate at least something, my friend and I went to the stands. Harry and the team went to the locker room. By eleven o'clock, the stadium was packed- it seemed like the whole school had gathered here. Many of them had binoculars in their hands. The stands were located high above the ground, but, nevertheless, it was sometimes difficult to see what was happening in the sky from them. If the main team plays at an altitude of twenty to twenty-five meters, then the hunters sometimes rise to fifty and dive to the ground.
  Hermione, Neville, Seamus, and Dean, a fan of West Ham football club, sat in the top row. To give Harry a pleasant surprise, we unfurled a huge banner made from the sheet that the Skabers had mutilated. "Potter's captaincy" was written on the banner. And Dean, who could draw well, painted a huge lion on the banner, the emblem of the Gryffindor faculty. When we unfolded the canvas, Hermione whispered something under her breath, and the letters and the drawing began to shimmer in different colors.
  Harry followed Fred and George out of the locker room. Madame Hooch refereed the match. She stood in the center of the field, holding a broom in her hands and waiting for the teams to line up opposite each other.
  "So, we need a beautiful and fair game. From each and every one of you," she said, gesturing for everyone to come closer.
  She did not address all the players, but personally to the captain of the Slytherin national team, sixth-year Marcus Flint. Flint looks like he had trolls in his family. Pure-blooded wizards have a problem with looks in general. Too often we marry our relatives. Therefore, old families periodically marry Muggle-borns. Take Harry's mom too.
  "Please get on your brooms." Hooch ordered.
  Harry climbed onto his Nimbus 2000.
  Madam Hooch forcefully blew the silver whistle and soared high into the air with the fourteen players. The match has started. The twins' friend Lee Jordan's sonorous voice could be heard from the commentator's podium. The match has started. The twins' friend Lee Jordan's sonorous voice could be heard from the commentator's podium.
  "...And now the quaffle is in the hands of Angelina Johnson from Gryffindor. This girl is a great hunter, and, by the way, she is, among other things, very attractive..."
  "JORDAN!" Professor McGonagall raised her voice, having deliberately sat next to the match commentator.
  She knew perfectly well that Jordan often gets carried away, so she decided to control him. "I'm sorry, Professor," he corrected himself. "So, Angelina makes a great maneuver, bypasses her rivals, Alicia Spinnet's accurate pass is Oliver Wood's find, last year she was just a backup, - again a pass to Johnson and... No, the ball was intercepted by the Slytherin team. Marcus Flint, the captain of the team, is making a leap forward. Flint soars into the sky like an eagle, now he's going to throw the ball... No, in a fantastic jump, Goalkeeper Wood intercepts the ball, and Gryffindor launches a counterattack. Katie Bell is a hunter with the ball, she superbly circles Flint from the right, soars over the field and.. Oh, what bad luck... It must hurt a lot to get hit in the back of the head with a bludger. The Slytherin team has the ball, Adrian Pusey flies to the opponent's goal, but he is stopped by the second bludger... It seems that Fred Weasley sent the ball to Pusey, although it might have been George, because they are so difficult to distinguish... In any case, the Gryffindor beaters did their best. Johnson has the ball in her hands, there is no one in front of her, and she rushes forward... What a flight!.. She dodges the speeding bludger... She's right in front of the gate... Come on, Angelina!.. Goalkeeper Bletchley makes a shot, misses... A GOAL! Gryffindor opens the account! The applause of the Gryffindor national team fans and the moans and howls of Slytherin fans filled the cold air, raising its temperature with their emotions.
  "Hey, you guys up there, move over!" It reached me and Hermione.
  "Hagrid!"
  Wow, I thought he wasn't coming. Hermione and I made room for our classmates, and Hagrid struggled into the vacant seat.
  "At first, I watched the game from my hut," He said, patting the huge binoculars hanging around his neck. "But everything is completely different here at the stadium, yes! The crowd is all around again, everyone is sick. The Snitch hasn't appeared yet, has it?"
  "No," I shook my head. "Harry hasn't had a job yet."
  "At least I'm not in trouble yet, that's not bad." Hagrid raised the binoculars to his eyes, staring at the tiny dot in the sky that was Harry Potter.
  When Angelina opened the account, Harry described several circles over the field. A few seconds later, he dodged a black ball that resembled a ball, and at the same time, Fred Weasley rushed after him. Fred sent a bludger towards Marcus Flint with a powerful blow.
  "The Slytherin team has the ball," Lee Jordan commented on what was happening in the air. "Hunter Pusey dodges a bludger, another one, bypasses the Weasley twins and Katie Bell and rushes to. Wait, isn't that a Snitch?" A loud whisper ran through the crowd of spectators, Adrian Pusey dropped the quaffle that had ceased to interest him and, looking back, began to scan the sky in search of a golden ball that suddenly whistled past his left ear.
  Harry swooped down sharply. Slytherin team seeker Terence Higgs also saw the Snitch. He and Harry rushed towards him at the same time, and all the hunters froze in the air, forgetting about their ball and intently watching Harry and Higgs compete in agility and speed.
  Harry was faster than Higgs. And...
  BOOM!
  From the stands, there was an indignant roar from the Gryffindor fans - Marcus Flint, as if by accident, crashed into Harry at full speed, and he flew away, clinging to a broom and thinking only about how to stay in the air.
  "Violation!" it came from the stands. It's good that the brooms have a protective field and you still have to try to fall off it.
  Madam Trick stopped the game with a whistle and, after making a strict suggestion to Flint, awarded a free kick towards the Slytherin goal. As for the snitch, when there was a commotion on the field, the golden ball, as expected, disappeared in an unknown direction.
  "Kick him off the field, Referee!" Dean Thomas shouted from the podium, still not calming down. "Give him a red card!"
  This is normal for professional Quidditch, although Slytherin plays a bit dirty.
  "Dean, you've probably forgotten that you're not at your favorite football game," I reminded him. In Quidditch, you don't get kicked off the field. By the way, what is a red card?"
  To my surprise, Hagrid took Dean's side.
  "So they need to change the rules, yes! After all, this Flint could easily knock Harry to the ground!"
  That's the order of the day. Although they usually try to shoot down hunters with bludgers. Or they lure each other to the ground with feints.
  Commentator Lee Jordan, knowing full well that he must be dispassionate, nevertheless could not resist stating his position.
  "So, after an obvious, deliberate and therefore dishonest and disgusting violation..."
  "Jordan!" Professor McGonagall snarled.
  "I mean," Jordan corrected himself, "after this blatant and disgusting forbidden act..."
  "Jordan, I'm warning you..." McGonagall interrupted him.
  "Good, good. So, Flint almost killed Harry Potter's Gryffindor seeker, but without a doubt, this can happen to anyone."
  Jordan's words were laced with undisguised irony, but there was nothing Professor McGonagall could do about it.
  "Gryffindor takes a free kick, Spinnet takes it, she passes it back, Gryffindor still has the ball, and..."
  Lee continued to comment on the game.
  "Slytherin has the ball... Flint misses the ball, it ends up at the Spinner... Spinnet makes a pass to Bell... Bell gets hit hard in the face with a bludger, hopefully the bludger broke her nose... Just kidding, just kidding, Professor... Slytherin throws the ball. Oh, no..."
  The Slytherin fans applauded in unison.
  Everyone's attention was focused on the game.
  "I don't understand what Harry is doing there. What's he thinking, huh?" Hagrid muttered, watching Harry through the binoculars. "If I didn't know better, I'd say he's not driving the broom, she's driving it... No, he can't..."
  Suddenly, someone shouted loudly and drew attention to Harry, and all eyes turned to him. His broom turned sharply in the air, then again, but he barely held on to it. And then the whole stadium gasped. The broom suddenly jumped, tilted, and finally threw Harry off.
  Now he was hanging from a broom, one hand gripping the handle.
  So-o, the field went down. Did they break his broom? I hope they catch him if he falls.
  "Did something happen to her when Flint crashed into him?" Seamus whispered.
  No, it shouldn't be like that," said Hagrid in a trembling voice. "Nothing bad can happen to a broom like that, unless there's Dark Magic involved, and strong magic at that." The kid can't do that with a Nimbus.
  Hearing these words, Hermione snatched the binoculars from Hagrid, but instead of looking at Harry, she pointed it at the crowd of spectators, peering intently at her.
  "What are you doing?" I groaned, feeling the blood drain from my face.
  If he falls from such a height, he may die or be injured.
  "I knew it," said Hermione, "Snape, look."
  I grabbed the binoculars. Snape was sitting on the podium directly in front of us. His gaze was focused on Harry, and he was muttering incessantly to himself.
  "He's bewitching a broom," Hermione explained.
  "So what do we do?"
  "Leave it to me."
  Before I could say anything, Hermione disappeared. It looks like we can only wait. I turned the binoculars back on Harry. The broom was vibrating so violently that it was clear that he would not be hanging on it for long. The audience jumped to their feet and gaped in horror at what was happening. My brothers rushed to Harry's aid, hoping to reach out to him and drag him onto one of their brooms. But nothing worked - as soon as they got within a suitable distance, the broom would soar up sharply. The twins dropped down a bit and circled underneath Harry, obviously hoping to catch him when he started to fall.
  Meanwhile, Marcus Flint grabbed the ball and threw it into the Gryffindor ring five times in a row, taking advantage of the fact that no one was looking at him.
  "Come on, Hermione," I whispered. She ran across the stadium to Snape, and after a while everything stopped. Harry suddenly managed to climb onto the broom. The UV field is working.
  "Neville, you can open your eyes!" I shouted. Neville had been sitting with his face buried in Hagrid's jacket for the last five minutes, crying loudly.
  Judge Hooch did not stop the game, the game stopped on its own, but still no one understood why Harry, having climbed on the broom, suddenly swooped down. The attention of the entire stadium was still focused on him, so everyone could clearly see how he suddenly raised his hand to his mouth, as if he was about to vomit. Harry leveled the broom near the ground, rolled off it, falling to all fours, coughed, and something flashed in his hand.
  "I've caught the Snitch!" He shouted loudly, holding the golden ball high above his head. The game ended in complete confusion.
  "He didn't catch it, he almost swallowed it," Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but no one was listening to him, because it didn't matter, because Harry hadn't broken the rules of the game. Lee Jordan happily shouted the result into the microphone: the Gryffindor team won with a score of 170:60.
  Immediately after Harry showed everyone the golden ball he had caught, Hermione, Hagrid, and I took him to Hagrid's hut. And now he was sitting in it and drinking strong tea. We were still reeling from the experience, especially Harry. But the herbal tea has already begun to take effect. I inhaled the soothing scent of valerian and took a sip from the cup.
  "It's all Snape," I explained fervently to Harry. Hermione and I saw everything. He looked at you without taking his eyes off you and whispered incantations.
  "Nonsense," said Hagrid indignantly, who, when strange things began to happen to Harry, was watching him so intently that he did not hear what Hermione and I were whispering on the podium, and did not notice that Hermione had gone somewhere. "Why would Snape do such a thing?"
  Harry, Hermione, and I looked at each other, wondering if we should tell Hagrid the truth.
  "I've learned something about him" Harry informed Hagrid that he was trying to get past a three-headed dog on Halloween. "The dog bit him. We think he was trying to steal what this dog is guarding."
  Hagrid dropped the teapot in surprise.
  "How did you find out about Fluffy?" He asked when he could speak again.
  "About Fluffy?"
  "Well, yes, it's my puppy. I bought it from a... uh... The Greek guys, we met last year... well... in a bar," Hagrid explained. "And then I lent the Fluffy to Dumbledore to guard it..."
  What a puppy. Although, considering Hagrid's size, it suits him. But taking Cerberus to school?! Was the principal even thinking about the students? We're not the only ones who broke into the forbidden corridor.
  "What?" Harry asked quickly.
  "All right, stop asking me questions here," muttered Hagrid. "It's a secret. The most secret secret, do you understand?"
  "But Snape tried to steal this thing," Harry persisted.
  "Nonsense," Hagrid waved him off, "Snape is a teacher at Hogwarts School. He wouldn't do anything like that in his life."
  "Then why did he try to kill Harry?" Hermione cried.
  It seems that after everything that happened today, she has radically changed her view of Snape, whom she defended against the accusations of Harry and me yesterday.
  I know what curses are, Hagrid. I've read all about them and I can immediately understand when someone is trying to curse something! In order to cast a spell, eye contact is needed, and Snape did not take his eyes off Harry, did not even blink once. I was watching him through binoculars, and then I saw when I crept up on him! And I'm telling you, it's not true! Hagrid blurted out, looking flustered. I don't know what happened to Harry's broom, but Snape would never do something like that to try to kill a student! Anyway, you three, listen up.: You're meddling in things that don't concern you at all, yes! You'd better forget about the Cannon and forget about what it's guarding, too. This thing only concerns Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel... Yeah!" said Harry, pleased. So someone named Nicholas Flamel is involved, right? Hagrid looked terribly angry with himself. But he couldn't change anything.
  Chapter 11. Christmas.
  Christmas was approaching. As promised, I wrote to my mother about the gift for Harry. Let him be happy. I have nothing to give him. Should I make him a postcard? In the middle of December, when everyone woke up in the morning, they found that the castle was covered with a thick layer of snow, and the huge lake was frozen. On the same day, the twins received several penalty points for conjuring snowballs they had made, and they began flying after Professor Quirrell, crashing into the back of his head. The few owls who managed to fight their way through the blizzard that morning to deliver mail to school were on the verge of death. And Hagrid had to tinker with them thoroughly before they could fly again.
  All the students were looking forward to the holidays and could no longer think about anything else. Maybe it was because it was terribly cold at school and everyone wanted to go to their warm, cozy homes. No, it was warm in the Gryffindor Common Room, the bedroom, and the Great Hall, because the flames roaring in the fireplaces did not go out for a minute. But the draughty corridors were icy, and the windows in the frozen classrooms were shaking and ringing under the blows of the wind, threatening to fly out. They couldn't fix them with magic. After all, this is where the largest community of brownies lives. But no, we need everyone to freeze. Okay, the seniors are casting warming charms on themselves, but what should we do? Our family is saved by my mother's sweaters. She enchants them for warmth. What about Muggleborns and first-generation children? They're wearing Muggle clothes without enchantments.
  The students had the worst time in Professor Snape's classes, which took place in the dungeon. Steam escaping from their mouths hung in the air like a white cloud, and the students, forgetting about burns and other dangers, tried to stay as close as possible to the boiling boilers, almost clinging to them.
  "I can't believe that someone will stay at school for the Christmas holidays because no one is waiting for them at home," Draco Malfoy said loudly in one of his potions classes. "Poor guys, I feel sorry for them..."
  As he spoke, Malfoy looked at Harry. Crabbe and Goyle giggled loudly. After the memorable match in which Gryffindor won thanks to Harry, Malfoy became even more unbearable. Stung by his team's defeat, he tried to make everyone laugh with a joke he had come up with. The idea was that in the next game, instead of Harry, a tree frog would take the field, it had a wider mouth than Potter's, and therefore it would be an ideal seeker.
  However, Malfoy quickly realized that his joke wasn't making anyone laugh - Harry might have caught the ball in a very peculiar way, but he caught it anyway. And, moreover, everyone was amazed that he managed to stay on the maddened broom. Malfoy, even more angry and burning with envy, returned to his proven tactics and continued to tease Harry, reminding him and others that he did not have a normal family. He also walked around my family a few times, but after I punched him in the face a couple of times, he calmed down. But Harry was obviously embarrassed to beat the offender, and Malfoy did not let up.
  A week ago, Professor McGonagall went through all the courses, making a list of students who would stay at school for the holidays, and I asked to be included in this list. My brothers were also going to stay at Hogwarts - our parents were going to Romania to visit their second son Charlie. Harry stays too. He would have stayed for the summer, but it is forbidden. Should I invite him to join us? By the way, how did the Potters miss him, the heir after all. Although, according to rumors, they left the country after the civil war.
  When they came out of the dungeon at the end of the lesson, they found that a huge fir tree had appeared in the corridor from nowhere. However, two giant feet poking out from behind the trunk and loud puffing told us that Hagrid had brought the fir here.
  "Hey, Hagrid, do you need any help?" I asked, sticking my head between the branches.
  "No, I'm fine, Ron... But thanks anyway," It came from behind the fir tree.
  "Perhaps you would be so kind as to let me pass," someone spoke from behind, drawing out the words. Of course, it could only be Malfoy.
  "And you, Weasley, as I understand it, are trying to earn a little extra money? I assume you plan to stay here as a forester after graduation? After all, Hagrid's cabin is a real palace compared to your parents' house."
  The bastard probably hasn't been punched in the face for a long time, we need to update our impressions. I jumped on Malfoy just as Snape appeared in the hallway.
  "WEASLEY!"
  I reluctantly let go of Malfoy, whom I had already grabbed by the shirt front. Goyle and Creb didn't even flinch. We're already used to figuring out our relationship with each other.
  "He was provoked, Professor Snape," Hagrid explained, sticking his head out from behind a tree. "This Malfoy insulted his family, that's it!"
  "Maybe, but in any case, fighting is forbidden by school rules, Hagrid," Snape said in an unctuous voice. "Weasley, you're giving your house five demerit points, and you can thank heaven it's not ten. Come on ahead, there's no need to crowd here."
  Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle forcefully pushed past Hagrid and his fir, almost breaking several branches and strewing the floor with needles. And they left, grinning stupidly. By the way, when I fight with the little Malfoy, his friends usually pretend that they are not there. They don't like him.
  "I'll get him," I remarked, rubbing my fist, looking at Malfoy's retreating back and gnashing my teeth. "I'll definitely get it one of these days..."
  "I hate them both," Harry confessed. "Both Malfoy and Snape."
  "Come on, guys, cheer up, Christmas is coming soon," Hagrid encouraged us. "I'll tell you what - come with me to the Great Hall, it's so beautiful there now, you'll rock!"
  Harry, Hermione, and I followed Hagrid, who was dragging a fir tree, into the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were hanging Christmas decorations there.
  "Great, Hagrid, isn't that the last tree?" Professor McGonagall said when she saw the fir tree. "Please put it in the far corner, okay?"
  The great hall looked amazing. There were at least a dozen towering fir trees in it: some glittered with frozen icicles, others shone with hundreds of candles attached to the branches. Traditional Christmas wreaths of white mistletoe and holly branches hung on the walls. That's how we started celebrating Muggle holidays four hundred years ago, for the purpose of mimicry with Muggles, and we celebrate. Muggleborns don't know much about magical holidays at all, and we usually celebrate them at home with our doors closed.
  "How long do you have left before the holidays?" Hagrid asked.
  "Just one day," said Hermione. "Yes, I remembered something. Harry, Ron, we have half an hour before lunch, we need to go to the library."
  "Oh, yeah, I forgot," I said, barely taking my eyes off Professor Flitwick.
  The professor was holding a magic wand, from which golden balls appeared. Obeying Flitwick, they floated up and settled on the branches of the tree Hagrid had just brought. Can he change the color? And the size? I want to be able to do that too. I'll have to come up and ask him how he does it. He's usually willing to share non-combat spells.
  "To the library?" Hagrid asked, coming out of the hall with us. "Before the holidays? You're really smart..."
  "No, it has nothing to do with classes," Harry said with a smile. "Ever since you mentioned Nicholas Flamel's name, we've been trying to find out who he is."
  At the same time, we read everything in a row. I usually take books about combat magic or herbology. Although sometimes I look through potions for the sake of interest.
  "What?" Hagrid was shocked. "Er... listen up, I told you to stay out of this, right! You don't care what Fluffy's guarding, or anything!"
  "We just want to find out who Nicholas Flamel is, that's all," Hermione explained.
  "Unless, of course, you tell us yourself so that we don't waste time," Harry added. "We've already looked through hundreds of books, but we haven't found anything. Can you at least give us a hint of where to read about him? By the way, I've heard that name before, even before you said it..."
  "I'm not telling you anything," said Hagrid gloomily.
  "So we'll have to find out for ourselves," I concluded, and we parted with a visibly annoyed Hagrid and hurried to the library.
  Ever since the day Hagrid mentioned Flamel's name, we've actually looked through a bunch of books in search of him. How else could we find out what Snape was trying to steal? The problem was that we had no idea where to start, and we didn't know what Flamel had become famous for to get into the book. He was not mentioned in the "Great Magicians of the twentieth Century", nor in the "Outstanding Names of Our Era", as well as in the "Important magical Discoveries of recent Times" and "New Directions of magical Sciences". Another problem was the sheer size of the library - thousands of shelves stretched into hundreds of rows, and there were tens of thousands of volumes on them.
  Hermione pulled out a list of books from her pocket that she planned to look through, and I walked along the rows, stopping from time to time, randomly pulling out a book on topics of interest to me and starting to leaf through it. Harry wandered off towards the Special Section.
  Unfortunately, in order to get into this section, it was necessary to have a permit signed by one of the teachers. No one will give him such permission. And he probably wouldn't have been able to come up with anything very convincing. They're going to kick him out, damn it.
  In addition, the books stored in this section were not intended for first-year students at all. These books are dedicated to the higher branches of Dark Magic that were not studied in school. So access to them was open only to teachers and even undergraduates who chose protection from the Dark Forces as their specialization.
  Harry apologetically talked to Madame Pince and left the library. We decided a long time ago that we would not contact her with the question of where to find information about Flamel. We were sure she knew the answer. But we didn't want to take any chances - Snape might be nearby, and he shouldn't have known what exactly we were interested in.
  We had been trying to find something for two weeks now, but there was no free time, except for the occasional free minute between classes, so it was hardly surprising that we didn't find anything. All we needed was a few hours in the library, and always in the absence of Madame Pince, so that she would not look closely at what we were doing.
  As I thought, Pince noticed Harry at the restricted section and kicked him out of the library. Okay, he's not here either. He put the volume back in its place. Hermione quickly flipped through the collected books.
  Five minutes later, we left the library, immediately shaking our heads at the sight of Harry. And they all went to lunch together.
  "You're going to keep looking for me when I go on vacation, aren't you?" Hermione asked hopefully. "And if you find something, send me an owl right away."
  "By the way, you might as well ask your parents if they know who this Flamel is," I said. "They're the parents, so there's no risk..." I would also ask if I had my own owl. Should I take a school card?
   "Absolutely nothing," Hermione agreed. "Especially considering that my parents are dentists..."
  When the holidays finally started, Harry and I were having too much fun to think about Flamel. There were only two of us left in the bedroom, and there were far fewer people in the common room than there had been during school. That's why we pulled chairs as close to the fireplace as possible and sat there for hours, stringing slices of bread, tortillas and marshmallows brought from the Great Hall onto a long metal fork, toasting them over an open fire and eating with gusto.
  Of course, we didn't stop talking for a second, even with our mouths full, because we had a lot to talk about. The main topic, of course, was Malfoy. We came up with dozens of plans to frame Malfoy and get him expelled from school. And it didn't matter that these plans were clearly unfeasible, it was still nice to talk about it.
  We also played magic chess, which I started teaching Harry. It was practically the same chess that Muggles played. The only difference was that the figures were alive, and the player felt like a commander directing his troops at the enemy. My chess set was new and well-tuned by small golems. And with full terrain control on the board. Aunt Muriel gave them to me after I learned how to play my grandfather's set properly. I've never had any problems getting the figures to do what I want. Harry was playing with the action figures that Seamus Finnigan had lent him, and they obeyed him very badly, completely distrusting the temporary owner. In addition, Harry was not a very good player, and the figures constantly gave him advice, confusing him:
  "Don't send me there, don't you see the enemy horse? Better send that one over there, his loss won't make any difference."
  Unfortunately, my friend listened to the advice of the figures and everyone around him. Unsurprisingly, he blew a huge bill. Besides, even though I explained to him how to control the pieces, it's quite difficult to do this with someone else's chess. They get attached to a particular host and don't want to listen to others.
  On Christmas Eve, I went to bed looking forward to a festive breakfast and fun. In the morning, I was woken up by Harry, who noticed the boxes and bundles by his bed.
  "Good morning," I said sleepily as Harry got out of bed and threw a robe over his pajamas.
  "Same to you," Harry replied automatically, staring at what lay by his bed. "Just look at these presents!"
  "I thought they were pumpkins," I joked, hanging off my bed. She had more presents than Harry. Considering how many relatives I have in the magical world, this is not surprising. I quickly looked through my pile, keeping an eye on my friend.
  Harry quickly unpacked the top package. The gift was wrapped in thick brown wrapping paper. There was a rough-hewn flute inside - most likely, Hagrid had carved it out of wood himself. Harry brought it to his lips and extracted from it a sound similar to the hooting of an owl.
  The next gift was in a thin envelope and consisted of a sheet of thick paper. A small coin was taped to the paper.
  "Nice to meet you," Harry commented. However, I liked this gift - I looked at the coin with all my eyes.
  "What a ridiculous contraption!" I finally exhaled. "Is that money? This shape?"
  "Take it for yourself." Harry laughed when he saw how pleased I was. "I wonder who else could have sent me a present besides the Dursleys and Hagrid?"
  "I think I know who it's from." I blushed slightly, pointing at the bulky package "It's from my mom. I wrote to her that there would be no one to give you a gift...
  I got a lot of red paint, after all, it's a homemade sweater and all that.
  "O-o-oh," I moaned. "I wish I'd thought of that before. "She knitted you a Weasley branded sweater..."
  Harry tore open the package, revealing inside a thick, hand-knitted emerald green sweater and a large box of homemade sweets.
  "She knits sweaters for all of us every year for Christmas", I muttered unhappily, unwrapping a gift from my mother. "And I always get the maroon one."
  And I look like a tomato with my hair in it. Although aurors generally wear scarlet robes.
  "Your mom is just great", Harry noticed as he tasted the sweets, which were of course very tasty. Mom is generally good at baking.
  The next gift was also sweet, a large box of chocolate frogs sent by Hermione.
  There was one more bundle left. Harry picked him up from the floor. He slowly unwrapped it. Something airy, silver-gray fell out of the bundle and, with a rustle, gently landed on the floor, glistening with folds. I opened my mouth wide in amazement.
  Wow. This is...
  "I've heard of it," I said in a strangled voice, dropping the box of lollipops Hermione had sent to the floor without even noticing it. If this is what I think it is, it is a very rare thing, and very valuable.
  "And what is it?" Harry picked up a shiny silver cloth from the floor. It felt very strange to the touch, as if it was partially made up of water.
  "It's an invisibility cloak," I whispered in awe. "I have no doubt that this is her, try it yourself. Put it on."
  Harry draped the cloak over his shoulders.
  "It's her!" I yelled. "Look down!"
  Harry followed my advice and did not see his own feet. He darted like lightning to the mirror. His face was still there, of course, but it was floating in the air because his body was completely missing. Harry pulled his robes over his head, and his reflection disappeared completely.
  "Look, there's a note!" I called out to him. "A note fell out of it!"
  Harry took off his robes and picked up a piece of paper from the floor. The writing on it was done in a very small handwriting with curlicues, something I had never seen before. Harry was studying a strange note written by unknown people, and I was still admiring the robes.
  "Yes, I'd give a lot for one," I confessed. "Hey, what's the matter with you?"
  "Nothing," Harry shook his head.
  Before he could say anything, the bedroom door burst open and Fred and George burst in. Harry quickly hid his robes under the covers.
  "Merry Christmas!" Fred shouted from the doorway.
  "Hey, look!" George exclaimed, turning to his brother. "Harry also got a Weasley branded sweater!"
  Fred and George were wearing brand-new blue sweaters, one with a large yellow letter "F" embroidered on it, the other with a letter "D" of the same color and size.
  "By the way, Harry's sweater looks better than ours," Fred admitted, turning the gift Harry had received from our mom over in his hands. "He's not a family member, so she knitted him much harder."
  "Why aren't you wearing your sweater, Ron?" George was indignant "Come on, they're not only beautiful, they're also very warm."
  "I hate burgundy," I moaned, pulling on my sweater.
  "And there are no letters on yours," George chuckled, looking at me. "I guess she thinks you won't forget your name. And we're not stupid either-we know very well that our names are Dread and Forge."
  The twins burst out laughing, pleased with the joke.
  "What's all that noise?"
  Another red head poked through the door, Percy's, and he didn't look too happy. Apparently, he had already managed to open his gifts, at least partially, because he was holding a rough-knit sweater in his hands, which Fred immediately snatched from him.
  "Yeah. The letter "H" is here, that is, the headman. Come on, Percy, put it on - we've all already put ours on, and so has Harry."
  "I... don't... want to," I heard Percy's hoarse voice, as the twins had already pulled a sweater over his head, knocking off his glasses.
  "And remember, you won't be sitting with the prefects at breakfast today, but with us," George added instructively. "Christmas is a family holiday."
  The twins pulled a sweater over him, so that his arms did not get into the sleeves, but were pressed against his body. And, grabbing his older brother by the scruff of the neck, they pushed him out of the bedroom.
  ***
  On the table were hundreds of fat roast turkeys, mountains of fried and boiled potatoes, dozens of bowls of fried green peas and saucepans full of meat and cranberry gravy, and towers of magical firecrackers. The firecracker that Harry and Fred tried out didn't just pop, but exploded with a cannon roar and, enveloping them in thick blue smoke, spat out a rear admiral's cap and several live white mice.
  It was fun at the teacher's table too. Dumbledore had exchanged his pointed wizard's cap for a flowered hat and was laughing merrily at Professor Flitwick's jokes.
  The turkey was followed by candlelit Christmas puddings. The puddings were a surprise - Percy almost broke his tooth on a silver sickle, taking a bite of the pudding. Hagrid kept pouring himself more wine and getting redder and redder, and finally he kissed Professor McGonagall on the cheek. And she blushed in embarrassment and giggled, not noticing that her top hat had slipped to one side. In general, it was fun. But I'd like to see my older brother and my parents. It's a pity that children are not allowed in the dragon Reserve. They left Jeanie at Aunt Lucrezia's.
  The next day, Harry and I had a lot of fun, having a furious snowball fight outside. And then, soaked, cold, and barely able to catch our breath, we returned to the fireplace in the living room. Harry tried out his new chess pieces there and was spectacularly defeated by me. Harry tried out his new chess pieces there and was spectacularly defeated by me. Perhaps if he had played by himself, without listening to Percy's valuable advice, the defeat would not have been so quick and shameful. Unlike Harry, my brother doesn't understand chess at all. My friend has already learned to play well by himself. But he's constantly distracted from the game.
  After tea with turkey sandwiches, muffins, biscuits and Christmas pie, Harry and I felt so full and sleepy that we simply had neither the energy nor the desire to do anything before going to bed. So we just sat and watched as Percy chased the twins around the room, who had taken away his prefect badge.
  I had eaten my fill of turkey and sweet pie, so nothing mysterious or mystical bothered me. And as soon as my head touched the pillow, I immediately fell asleep.
  I got up earlier than my friend in the morning, although he usually gets up earlier than everyone else. Strange.
  "You could have woken me up." I said resentfully. We were sitting in the Great Hall having breakfast - or rather, I was having breakfast, and Harry had just finished his story about his nocturnal adventures. No, to think of him wandering around the school alone. What if Snape had caught him? He doesn't like him anyway, to put it mildly, but here's a late-night wake-up call. Or wasn't he on duty yesterday? No, Harry said he heard Filch complaining to Snape about the intruder.
  "You can come with me tonight. I'd like to show you this mirror."
  "I'd love to meet your parents." I blurted out happily. At least I'll look at this obviously magical mirror.
  "And I'd like to see your whole family, all the Weasleys."
  "You'll show me your older brothers and all the other relatives." I shrugged my shoulders. "Come and stay with us this summer, and that's it."
  "By the way, maybe this mirror only shows those who have already died? It's also a pity that you didn't find anything about Flamel. Take the bacon, why don't you eat anything?"
  But Harry continued to sit hungry. I don't like it.
  "Are you okay?" I asked worriedly. "You look so strange..."
  "It's all right."
  Ignoring decency again, I took a couple of fried sausages off the platter and forced Harry to eat them. Yeah, it certainly looked like it... All the Slytherins are laughing at me now. Babysitter for the hero damn.
  ***
  Harry was very absent-minded all day, and I was enjoying it less and less. What kind of mirror is this? There were two of us under the cloak today, so we moved much slower than Harry did yesterday. We tried to repeat the path that Harry had taken after running out of the library, and for about an hour we wandered through the dark corridors.
  "I'm just dying of the cold," I complained. My feet are already thoroughly frozen. It's very cold in the castle in winter, but I went in my pajamas. Let's forget about it and go back to the bedroom.
  "No way," Harry hissed indignantly, "I know the room is nearby."
  We passed by the ghost of a tall woman floating in the opposite direction, and fortunately, we didn't meet anyone else. And just when I started moaning again that my legs were frozen and I couldn't feel them anymore, Harry noticed the familiar armor.
  "It's here... Definitely here... yes!"
  Harry opened the door and, throwing off his robes, rushed to the mirror.
  "See?" Harry whispered, turning to me.
  A mirror is like a mirror. The usual reflection.
  "I don't see anything."
  "Look at that! Look, there they are - the parents, and others..."
  "I only see you," I replied.
  "Take a closer look," Harry persisted. "Come closer, stand here, next to me."
  Harry moved a little bit, and now I was in front of the mirror. Awesome! Is this really true? No, I don't think so. What a strange mirror. I froze in front of the mirror, staring at it in fascination.
  "Just look at me!" I exclaimed.
  "Do you see your parents and brothers around you?" Harry asked.
  "No, I'm alone. But I'm different... grown up... and... and I'm the first student of the school!"
  I looked more closely.
  "I... I have a badge on my chest, the same one Bill had when he became the best student at Hogwarts. And I have in my hands the Cup of the winner of the inter-house competition and the school Quidditch Cup. I'm also the captain of the national team, can you imagine!"
  I tore my eyes away from the painting that had so fascinated me and looked excitedly at Harry.
  "Do you think the mirror shows the future?" I asked hopefully.
  "It can't be!" Harry protested hotly. "My whole family died a long time ago. What does the future have to do with it? Move away, I want to see more..."
  "You stared at him all night last night," I said hotly. "Harry, let's get out of here, whatever. This is a very dangerous mirror."
  "Harry was indignant."
  "I want to see my parents!"
  "Don't push me!" I screamed, staggering, when he pushed me hard in the side. Damn, I'm stuck with this piece of glass myself.
  A sudden sound coming from the hallway silenced us. We just realized that we were arguing too loudly and probably made a terrible noise.
  "Quickly!"
  I grabbed the robe. And we managed to cover ourselves with it when Mrs. Norris appeared from behind the door, her eyes twinkling. Harry and I froze, trying not to breathe and thinking about the same thing - does the cloak apply to cats? It seemed like an eternity before Mrs. Norris turned around and walked back out into the hallway.
  "It's dangerous here-maybe she went after Filch," I whispered. "I bet my old broom that she's heard our voices and knows we're here. We're leaving."
  And I dragged the reluctant Harry out of the room.
  ***
  "Do you want to play chess? I'll show you how to transform the playing field into a forest." I asked the next morning when we returned from breakfast.
  "No," said Harry shortly.
  "Then why don't we go out of the castle and visit Hagrid?"
  "Perhaps not..." Harry shrugged his shoulders. "If you want, you'd better go alone..."
  "I know what you're thinking, Harry." There was understanding on my face. "You're thinking about that mirror. Don't go there today."
  "Why?"
  "I don't know, but I have a bad feeling about this. Besides, you've been on the verge of failure too many times already. Filch, Snape, and Mrs. Norris are all over the school, hoping to catch you. Yes, they can't see you, but they might run into you. But what if you bump into something or knock something down- they'll figure it out right away..."
  "You sound just like Hermione," Harry snapped.
  "I'm serious, Harry," I pleaded. "Don't go there. And finally eat. There's your favorite oatmeal. And a sugar bowl. Do you want some eggs? There's the bacon you like. I started pushing the plates towards him, trying to attract his attention with the delicious smell."
  But, of course, he waited until evening anyway and went. But I stuffed dinner into it anyway. Apparently, the guy realized that it's not a good idea to sit hungry. The Slytherins have already openly called me the babysitter of the hero of the wizard of Britain. And you can't even punch me in the eye for that. It's true. I got there.
  ***
  Harry returned at night upset and much earlier than I expected. Kicking his trunk in anger, he fell asleep. He didn't go to the mirror anymore. He said Dumbledore caught him and forbade him to come there. That's good, because this mirror acts on the mind like a drug.
  Chapter 12. A match with a Halfpipe.
  The next day, Harry put the invisibility cloak in his suitcase.
  "You see, Dumbledore was right when he said that this mirror could drive you crazy," I stated when Harry told me that he had nightmares. Why are you sitting there hungry? Take your oatmeal and jam and eat.
  Hermione, who returned from vacation the day before the start of the semester and to whom Harry and I told absolutely everything - because she was our friend - looked at things differently. She was torn between horror at the thought of Harry wandering around the school for three nights in a row ("Just think what would happen if Filch caught you!" she kept exclaiming) and disappointment that Harry hadn't been able to find out who Nicholas was. Flamel. We had almost given up hope of finding Flamel's name in one of the library books.
  To tell the truth, I wasn't really looking for him. That's how I read about the magical world and famous travelers. When the semester started, we started running back to the library between classes and spent ten minutes feverishly flipping through the first books we could find. I became interested in creating potions and antidotes in the field.
  Of course, it would have been possible to go to the library after class, but Hermione devoted all her free time to homework and extracurricular reading, and Harry had almost no free time at all because Quidditch practice resumed. I played chess and did my homework. I had to repeat the movements many times with my wand, otherwise it wouldn't work. Damn, I definitely need to buy a new one. Okay, that's a good workout.
  ***
  Hermione and I were playing a game of chess when Harry came into the common room. Hermione always knew everything better than the others, but she sometimes lost at chess. And Harry agreed with me that it's very useful for her. She stopped being a nerdy know-it-all for a while and just had fun with us.
  "Please wait, don't distract me", I asked, noticing Harry sitting next to me. "I need to concentrate because..."
  I looked up at my friend. He looks pale. And his hands are shaking.
  "What's wrong with you?" I asked with interest. "You look really creepy."
  In a low, calm voice so that no one could hear, Harry told us about Snape's sudden and sinister desire to referee a Quidditch match. He's going to kill him.
  "You can't play" Hermione said at once.
  "Tell me you're sick." I suggested it.
  "Pretend you broke your leg." Hermione asked. And that this is the way out. And there are no complaints about Harry and he will save his life.
  "Or really break it." I added it. "I'd rather go to the hospital wing for a day than break you"r neck."
  "I can't," Harry admitted. "We don't have a backup seeker. If I don't go out on the field, then the whole team won't come out."
  And if he goes out on the field, he'll break his neck!
  At that moment, Neville stumbled into the room-literally stumbled in. It was unclear how he managed to get through the hole behind the portrait of the Fat Lady, because his legs were stuck to one another, as if a special spell had been cast on Neville. He must have had to jump all the way to Gryffindor Tower. Did he forget the cancellation spell?
  Everyone burst out laughing, except Hermione, who jumped up to Neville and said the formula to break the spell. Neville's legs flew apart.
  "What happened?" Hermione asked, leading him towards us.
  "Malfoy," Neville replied in a trembling voice. "I met him in the hallway outside the library. He said he was looking for someone to practice on." And none of the seniors helped him.
  "Go to Professor McGonagall immediately!" Hermione nudged him. "And tell me everything as it was!"
  Neville shook his head.
  "I've had enough trouble." He muttered.
  "But you have to do it, Neville!" I was indignant. - He's always trying to trample everyone into the mud, and you get into it yourself and make his job easier!
  I was outraged to the core by the behavior of the quiet Neville.
  "Don't tell me I'm not brave enough to be a member of Gryffindor." Neville sobbed. "Malfoy has already proved that to me."
  Damn, what was the hat thinking about when it placed a typical Halfpenny with us? No, he's not a coward. But he's terribly peaceful.
  Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a chocolate frog, the last one Hermione had sent him for Christmas. He handed the frog to Neville, who looked like he was about to cry.
  "You're worth ten Malfoys," said Harry "And you deserve to be in Gryffindor. After all, the Magic Hat itself selected you for our faculty." It would have been better if Neville had gone to Halfpuff, as the hat suggested. And all his grandmother - you have to be like your father. Well, which of the non-confrontational Neville aurors. "Well, where did this Malfoy end up? In a stinking hole called Slytherin, that's where."
  Yes, because of the constant clashes with Malfoy, Harry has a very biased attitude towards Slytherins. But they're from the same class. Even I have a better relationship with the nobility of the wizarding world than Potter.
  Neville smiled faintly and unwrapped the frog.
  "Thank you, Harry," he said gratefully... "Yes, here's the card- you're collecting them, right?"
  After watching Neville go, Harry looked down at the card he was holding in his hand.
  "Here we go, Dumbledore again," he said. "since he was on my very first ka..."
  Harry suddenly stopped talking, staring at the picture in shock. He stared at the card as if he couldn't take his eyes off it, and then he looked up at me and Hermione.
  "I found it!" he whispered. "I found Flamel! I told you, I've seen that name before, so it was on the train when I was coming here. Listen up! "...Professor Dumbledore became famous, among other things, for his victory over the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, the discovery of twelve ways to use dragon's blood, and the work on alchemy carried out jointly with his partner Nicholas Flamel..." Harry read it.
  Hermione jumped to her feet. She hadn't looked this excited since we'd received our grades for the very first homework, which Hermione had, of course, done Perfectly.
  "Wait here!" - she ordered and rushed to the stairs leading to the girls' bedroom.
  Harry and I barely had time to exchange intrigued glances, and Hermione was already returning to the table with a heavy ancient book in her hands.
  "It never even occurred to me to look for him here!" She whispered excitedly. But I took it from the library a few weeks ago! Especially to take my mind off my textbooks. For easy reading.
  A light one? I asked again. Instead of answering, Hermione advised me to keep quiet until she found what she needed, and began feverishly turning the pages, muttering something under her breath.
  "I knew it!" she exclaimed. "I knew it!"
  "Can we talk now?" I asked irritably.
  Hermione pretended she hadn't heard the question.
  "Nicholas Flamel," she whispered, as if she were an actress performing a dramatic role. "Nicolas Flamel is the only known creator of the Philosopher's Stone!"
  Her words didn't have the effect she was hoping for on Harry and me.
  "The creator of what?" - we asked in one voice.
  "Well, that's too much. Don't you read books? Okay, then at least read this piece...."
  With my disabled wand, I don't feel like reading at all. I would have time to work out the movements.
  Hermione pushed the book towards us.
  "The ancient science of alchemy was engaged in the creation of the Philosopher's Stone, a legendary substance endowed with amazing powers. According to legend, the stone could turn any metal into pure gold. It could also be used to make the elixir of life, which made the one who drank this elixir immortal.
  Over the centuries, there have been many rumors that the Philosopher's Stone has already been created, but the only stone in existence today belongs to Mr. Nicholas Flamel, an outstanding alchemist and opera fan.
  Mr. Flannel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys peace and privacy in Devon with his wife Pernella (six hundred and fifty-eight years old)."
  "Do you understand?" Hermione asked when Harry had finished reading with me. "The dog must be guarding Flamel's Philosopher's Stone! I have no doubt that he asked Dumbledore about it because they are friends and also because Flamel knew that someone was hunting for his stone. That's why he wanted the stone taken away from Gringotts!"
  "A stone that turns everything into gold and guarantees you immortality!" Harry exclaimed. "No wonder Snape wants to steal it."
  "Anyone would want to have such a stone. And it's not surprising that we couldn't find Flamel's name in "New Directions in Modern Magical Science," I remarked. "You can't call him modern, because he's six hundred and sixty-five years old."
  The next morning, in defense against the Dark Arts class, Harry and I were still discussing what we would do with the Philosopher's Stone if we got our hands on it. It was only when I said that I would buy myself a team of Cannon Balls that Harry remembered about Snape and the upcoming match.
  "I will definitely play," He stated firmly after the lesson, when we left ZOTI's office. If I don't show up on the field, everyone will think that I'm scared of Snape. I'll show them all... I'll wipe the smiles off their faces-if, of course, we win.
  "Unless, of course, someone has to scrape what's left of you off the field", Hermione, who was very worried about Harry, remarked pessimistically.
  ***
  The day of the match has arrived. Hermione and I walked Harry to the locker room and left, wishing him luck. We wondered if we would be able to see him alive after the match.
  While Harry was changing, Hermione and I found empty seats on the podium and sat next to Neville. He couldn't understand why we looked so gloomy and preoccupied and why we brought our magic wands with us to the game. Harry didn't know that we were secretly practicing Decontamination every day, the same spell that Malfoy had cast on Neville. We came up with this wonderful idea at the same time, just the day Hermione broke Neville's spell. We were ready to cast a curse on Snape at the very moment when it seemed to us for even a moment that he wanted to harm Harry. Snape is an adult wizard and will be able to protect himself from falling, unlike Harry.
  "So, don't forget to pronounce "Locomotor Mortis"." Hermione whispered as I tucked my wand into my sleeve.
  "I remember," I snapped. "Don't be a bore."
  Snape looked annoyed as the teams entered the field. Even I noticed from the podium that Snape was beside himself.
  "I've never seen him so angry." I whispered to Hermione. "Look, they're starting. Oh!"
  Someone hit me on the back of the head from behind. I turned around. Of course, it turned out to be Malfoy.
  "Oh, Weasley, I'm sorry, I didn't see you."
  There was a mocking grin on Malfoy's face. Next to him, Goyle and Crabbe were grinning too.
  "I wonder how long Potter will be able to stay on the broom this time?" Malfoy asked loudly, knowing that Hermione, Neville, and I could hear him perfectly. "Does anyone want to bet? How about you, Weasley? Although yes, you have nothing to argue about..."
  I didn't answer, as I was staring intently at the field where Snape had just punished Gryffindor with a penalty point for George Weasley hitting a bludger in his direction. Hermione, who was sitting with her hands in her lap and all her fingers crossed, was staring at Harry. He circled above the rest of the players, looking around for his Ball.
  "I think I've figured out what criteria Gryffindor uses to recruit a Quidditch team." Malfoy loudly declared a few minutes later, when Snape punished Gryffindor with penalty points again, and for absolutely no reason. "Pity is what guides them there. Take Potter, he's an orphan. Take the Weasley twins - they are absolutely penniless. So it's strange that they didn't put you on the team, Longbot, because you don't have any brains at all. Neville blushed deeply, but still found the strength to turn to Malfoy.
  "I'm worth a dozen people like you, okay?" He stammered. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle roared with laughter. Neville looked at me uncertainly. I felt his gaze, but I just couldn't take my eyes off what was happening on the field.
  "Deal with him yourself, Neville," I whispered.
  "You know, Longbot, if brains were made of gold, you'd still be poorer than Weasley, and that's an indicator." Malfoy did not calm down.
  I was so worried about Harry that my nerves were strained to the limit.
  "I'm warning you, Malfoy." I growled, turning away from the field for a second. "One more word..."
  "Ron!" said Hermione suddenly. "Look at Harry!.."
  Harry suddenly plunged down, beautifully entering a dive, to which the audience reacted with applause, enthusiastic screams and amazed screams. I noticed the Snitch next to Snape. Hermione jumped up from her seat, not understanding what was happening, and Harry was rushing towards the ground like a bullet.
  "You're lucky, Weasley, Potter seems to have noticed a small coin on the field!" Malfoy drawled.
  I couldn't stand it. And before Malfoy realized what was happening, I was already sitting on top of him, pinning him to the ground and punching him. Neville hesitated for a few moments, and then rushed to my aid.
  "Come on, Harry!" Hermione screamed. We didn't pay attention to anything, but rolled around the podium, waving our fists. Malfoy punched me in the nose, but I've already punched him in the ribs a couple of times. I twisted around and punched Malfoy in the eye.
  The stands exploded with cheers and applause: They had never seen a Snitch caught at the very beginning of a game. It looked like Harry had set a record.
  "Ron! Ron! Where are you?! The game is over! Harry won! We won! Gryffindor came out on top!"
  Hermione yelled happily, jumping up and down in her seat. We continued to fight until the teachers separated us. Well, it's okay, even though my nose was smashed, Malfoy was hurt worse.
  ***
  "Harry, where have you been?" Hermione screamed, who was waiting for him at the entrance to the castle with me.
  "Victory! You won, we won!" I yelled, slapping Harry on the back. "I gave Malfoy a black eye. And Neville single-handedly attacked Crabbe and Goyle, can you imagine?! He's in the hospital right now, but Madam Pomfrey says he's fine and that he keeps saying he'll show Malfoy and his friends. All of our people are in the tower now, waiting for you to start the celebration. Fred and George snuck into the kitchen and stole several cakes and a bunch of all kinds of food.
  "Forget it," Harry whispered almost soundlessly. "Let's find an empty room, I need to tell you something..."
  He led us into one of the rooms and, after making sure that Peeves wasn't there, closed the door tightly and began his story.
  "I went to the broom shed when I saw Snape leaving the castle. I wondered where he was going, and I followed him into the woods. By the time I found where he was, I had already missed the beginning of his conversation with Quirrell. Snape was bullying him. And we were not mistaken when we decided that we were talking about the Philosopher's stone." after some time, he summed it up. And now Snape is trying to get Quirrell to help him get the stone. He asked Quirrell if he knew how to get past Fluffy. He also said something to Quirrell about his magic tricks. I think that the stone protects not only the Fluffy, but also a variety of spells. Perhaps Quirrell has cast some of his spells against the Dark Forces, and Snape needs to find out how to dispel these spells..."
  "So you're saying that the stone will be safe as long as Quirrell doesn't break under Snape's pressure?" Hermione asked anxiously.
  "Then, in a maximum of a week, the stone will disappear." I concluded gloomily.
  Chapter 13 tinkering with a baby dragon.
  However, apparently, Quirrell turned out to be braver than we thought. As the weeks passed, the professor became paler and thinner, but it didn't look like he was breaking down. Every time we walked down the third-floor hallway, Harry, Hermione, and I put our ears to the door that led into the forbidden territory, and from the growling coming from there, we concluded that everything was fine so far. This was confirmed by Snape, who was always in his usual foul mood. We had a deep respect for Quirrell, and I began to stand up for him, making remarks to those who laughed at the professor's stuttering.
  As for Hermione, unlike Harry and me, she wasn't just thinking about the Philosopher's Stone. She started making an exam preparation schedule, saying that we all needed to repeat the entire program, and cast a spell on her notes, marking the topics for each of the classes with different colors.
  "Hermione, exams are still an eternity away." Harry and I protested in unison.
  "It's only been ten weeks," snapped Hermione. "It's not an eternity at all, but for Nicolas Flamel it's like one second."
  "But we're not six hundred years old," I reminded her. - And why should we repeat everything, especially to you, because you already know everything?
   I'm going to have nightmares about these wand movements soon. Although the potions are really worth repeating. But why so early?
  "Why repeat it?!" Hermione almost choked with indignation. "Are you crazy? Do you understand that in order to enter the second year, we need to pass the exams? This is very important, we should have started repeating it last month! And how I forgot about it!"
  The teachers seemed to think the same way as Hermione. They literally overwhelmed the students with homework, and therefore the Easter holidays turned out to be very sad compared to the Christmas holidays. And how can you relax when Hermione is next to you, repeating aloud the twelve ways to use dragon's blood or practicing the technique of magic wand movements. Yawning and moaning with displeasure, Harry and I spent most of our free time in the library, trying to simultaneously repeat what we had learned and learn new things.
  "I'll never remember that in my life!" Finally, I exploded, throwing down my pen and staring longingly out the library window. No, the potion is definitely not mine. How to apply and where to get the ingredients is for me. But brewing potions is a scribe. Definitely a potion healer will be needed in the team. It was a really pleasant day for the first few months. The sky was bright blue, like a forget-me-not, and a premonition of summer floated in the air.
  And we're sitting in a stuffy library. Damn, I even have my shirt stuck to my back because of the heat. And you can't open the window, Madame Pince starts swearing right away. I looked up from the parchment with the potion recipe and looked around.
  "Hagrid! What are you doing here?"
  Hagrid seemed to be trying to hide from us behind the shelves, but realized that we had seen him. He came out of there and shuffled towards us. He didn't get too close, but kept his hands behind his back, as if he was hiding something from Harry and me. The giant in the mole fur coat clearly did not fit into the local environment and seemed to realize that he was attracting attention to himself, although he tried his best to avoid it. And it seemed that he was not happy to meet at all.
  "I'm just, er... I came to take a look," muttered Hagrid, averting his eyes. Harry and I were wary. "What are you doing here? Are you really all looking for Nicholas Flamel?"
  Hagrid immediately looked very suspicious.
  "Yes, we already found out who he is a long time ago," I said in an important voice. "And we know what the dog is guarding - it's philosophical..."
  Hagrid hissed, putting a finger to his lips and quickly looking around.
  "What are you... Why are you shouting about it, what happened to you?"
  "By the way, we wanted to ask you something," Harry said. "Tell me, who and what, besides Fluffy, is guarding the stone?"
  "Be quiet!" Hagrid hissed again. "Don't talk about it here. You can come see me later... well.. to... uh... tell you something, I won't promise, but here... well... you can't talk about it at all, schoolchildren don't need to know that. Otherwise, someone will think that you learned everything from me, yes! And I have nothing to do with it!"
  "See you later, then," said Harry, and Hagrid wandered out of the library.
  "I wonder what he was hiding behind his back." Hermione asked thoughtfully.
  "Are you saying that it might be related to the Philosopher's stone?" Harry asked.
  "I'm going to see which section he was in," I said. I'm already tired of studying. I need some distraction. I got up from the table and turned behind the shelf. Wow! There were books Hagrid had pulled out by the shelf, which he just hadn't had time to put away.
  I returned a few minutes later with a heavy stack of books in my hands.
  "The dragons!" I whispered. "Hagrid was looking for something about dragons. Here, look: "Dragon Species found in Great Britain and Northern Ireland" and "Dragon Breeding Guide: From Egg to Infernal Monster".
  "Hagrid always wanted to have a dragon. He told me himself the day we met," Harry remarked.
  "But that's against the law," I said. "Dragon breeding was banned by the Convention of Magicians of Seventeen hundred and nine, everyone knows that. If we breed dragons, Muggles will find out about our existence! They fly through the mountains wherever they want. Through magical Britain to Ireland, the real path runs through the greens. Besides, dragons can't be tamed anyway, and they're very dangerous. You should have seen the burns Charlie got in Romania studying wild dragons. The dragons there hatch their eggs in the mountains and train their broods.
  "But surely there are no dragons in Britain?" Harry asked hopefully.
  "Of course there is." I looked at him accusingly. What was he listening to? Common Welsh green and black Hebrides. To tell the truth, the Ministry of Magic spends a lot of effort trying to hide them from Muggles. They're flying through magical passageways all over the country. We don't have a reserve where they live in the magical part of the country. They like Muggle woods and cliffs. Our people have to cast spells on Muggles who encounter dragons so that they forget about this encounter forever."
  "I wonder what Hagrid is up to?" Hermione asked curiously.
  ***
  An hour later, we arrived at Hagrid's hut and were surprised to see that the curtains on the windows were drawn. And Hagrid only let us into the hut after making sure it was us. He immediately closed the door behind us.
  It was terribly hot inside. Despite the fact that it was warm outside, a fire was burning brightly in the fireplace. Hagrid made us tea and offered us sandwiches with ermine meat, but we didn't hesitate to turn down this exotic food. How does he even eat it. Well, at least he didn't offer his stone cupcakes.
  "So that's it... What did you want to ask?" Hagrid started the conversation first, when we sat down at a rough table with steaming cups of herbal tea and pork ham sandwiches. I was hungry again, so I asked Hagrid to share. The giant didn't mind.
  "Yes," Harry agreed, deciding not to beat around the bush. "We were wondering if you could tell us what guards the Philosopher's Stone... Except for the Flaffy."
  Hagrid looked at him disapprovingly. I bit into a sandwich while sipping tea.
  "No, I won't tell you," he said flatly. "First of all, I don't know myself. Well, secondly, you already have a lot of things... er-er... You've been scouted, you don't need to know any more. Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you anyway, yes! As for the stone, it's here for a reason, it was almost stolen from Gringotts... Well, I think you've figured it out for yourself. But how you found out about Fluffy is beyond me."
  Fluffy. Wow, that's a Fluffy. How did he even come up with such a monster, even if it was a small one?
  "Stop it, Hagrid! Of course, you don't want to tell us, but you know, you know everything that's going on here." There was blatant flattery in Hermione's voice, and Hagrid's beard twitched. The giant was smiling, even though his smile was hidden by his hair. "We just want to know who cast the spells that should prevent the stone from being stolen. We're so curious about who - besides you, of course - Professor Dumbledore trusts."
  Hagrid puffed out his chest proudly. Harry and I looked at Hermione with respect.
  "Well... this one... I think it won't matter if I tell you." There was no trace of doubt in Hagrid's flattered voice. "So that's it... He borrowed a Fluffy from me, that's one thing. And then some of the professors cast spells... Professor Sprout, Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid, counting off his finger as he pronounced another name. "Professor Quirrell... and Dumbledore himself, of course. Oh, I forgot something else. That's right, about Professor Snape."
  And he's here.
  "Snape?" - We all blurted out at the same time.
  "What are you talking about again? Come on, okay?" Hagrid waved us away. "How can you not understand - Snape... well, helps to protect the stone, why would he steal it?"
  If Snape was involved in guarding the stone, it means he could easily find out which spells the other professors had cast. It seemed that Snape had already found out everything he needed to know, except for the spell that Quirrell had cast.
  "You're the only one who knows how to get past the Fluffy, aren't you, Hagrid?" Harry asked excitedly. "And you're not going to tell anyone about this, are you? Not even any of the teachers?"
  "Not a single living soul knows, that's how! Except for me- er-er... And Dumbledore, of course," Hagrid declared proudly.
  "Well, at least that's a good thing," Harry muttered to his companions. "Hey, Hagrid, can we open the window? You can suffocate here..."
  "I'm sorry, Harry, but there's no way," Hagrid replied hastily and squinted at the fire burning in the fireplace. Harry, catching his eye, also looked into the fireplace.
  "Hagrid! What is this?!" he exclaimed. I followed his gaze.
  In the very center of the flame, right under the kettle hanging over the fire, there was a huge black egg. Oh, my God, he's crazy!
  "And... this..." Hagrid tugged nervously at his beard. "Well... that."..
  "Where did you get it, Hagrid?" I asked, kneeling in front of the fireplace and carefully examining the egg. It must be worth a lot of money. Dragon eggs are generally very difficult to get. Until you find the masonry in the cave. For now, you'll distract the dragon that's mad with rage. And dragonologists kill for it on the spot.
  "I won it," Hagrid admitted. "I won last night. I went down to the village, sat there... well... I drank it. And here's a stranger who wants to play cards. Although, to tell you the truth, he's... uh... He was even glad that he had lost the egg-he didn't seem to know where to put it."
  "And what will you do when a Dragon hatches out of it?" Hermione asked.
  "Well, I'm reading something here." Hagrid pulled a thick book out from under his pillow "I took it from the library - "Breeding dragons for pleasure and profit." It's a little old, of course, but it's all about it. You have to keep an egg on the fire, that's how! Because dragonesses breathe fire on eggs, they keep them warm like that. And when he is... Well... when it hatches, you have to give it a ladle of chicken blood every half hour and... er-er... Brandy still needs to be topped up there. And look at that - it's like recognizing eggs. What I have is a Norwegian humpback, a rare thing, so that's it."
  Hagrid was obviously very pleased with himself, but Hermione didn't share his joy.
  "Hagrid, you live in a wooden house," she said tragically. But Hagrid wasn't listening to her. He was humming to himself, stirring the fire with a poker.
  ***
  Now we had a new concern - we were worried about Hagrid's fate if anyone found out that he was illegally harboring a dragon.
  "I've even forgotten what a peaceful life is," I sighed.
  Night after night, we sat through our homework, which got bigger and bigger. Hermione had first created a repetition program for herself, and now she was preparing the same one for us. It was driving Harry and me crazy. Harry repeated everything. And I learned potions and the history of magic. Hermione noticed me practicing with my wand.
  Hedwig brought Harry a note from Hagrid one day at breakfast. There were only two words in the note: "It's hatching."
  I suggested skipping herbology and going straight to Hagrid's after breakfast. This is the first time in my life I'm going to see a baby dragon hatch. But Hermione wouldn't hear of it.
  "Look, Hermione, we may never see anything like this again in our lives," I scolded her.
  "We can't skip classes, we might have problems, and when someone finds out about Hagrid, it's going to start happening... And if we're still there, close by, then that's it..."
  "Shut up," Harry whispered.
  Malfoy, who was walking a couple of meters away from us, suddenly froze and listened. Hermione and I argued all the way to herbology, and eventually Hermione agreed to run over to Hagrid's after class. When the bell finally rang from the castle, we dropped the shovels we were using to pick at the ground, jumped out of the greenhouse and hurriedly rushed to the edge of the forest. Hagrid, who opened the door to us, was all red with excitement.
  "He's almost out!" Hagrid whispered, pushing us inside.
  The egg, riddled with deep cracks, lay on the table. Something was moving inside, tapping on the shell. We arrived on time. A couple more minutes and the whole shell would have been broken.
  We pulled chairs up to the table and sat down, holding our breath.
  Suddenly, there was a crack, the egg broke in half, and a small dragon fell out onto the table. He wasn't exactly cute. It looks like a crumpled black umbrella. He was terribly skinny, and the wings protruding from his back seemed too big for such a body. The dragon's muzzle was long, with wide nostrils, prominent horn bumps, and bulging orange eyes. The dragon sneezed, and a few sparks flew out of its nostrils.
  "Well, isn't he handsome?" Hagrid cooed. He reached out to stroke his pet's head. The dragon opened its mouth like lightning and snapped its sharp fangs, trying to grab Hagrid's finger.
  "That's a smart kid! He recognized his mom right away!" Hagrid marveled
  "Hagrid, how fast do Norwegian humpback dragons grow?" Hermione asked, puzzled. Hagrid opened his mouth to reply, but suddenly turned pale and, jumping to his feet, rushed to the window.
  "What happened?" Harry shouted.
  "Someone was looking in the window, and as luck would have it, I pulled the curtains loosely." Hagrid said ruefully. "Some kid... Out, running away."
  Harry jumped to the door and threw it open. He looked after the blond-haired boy and sighed heavily.
  "This is Malfoy."
  Damn, well, we got there.
  ***
  For the next week, Malfoy smiled unpleasantly at Harry, Hermione, and me, and his smile made us nervous. We spent most of our free time in the semi-darkness of Hagrid's hut, trying to reason with the woodsman.
  "Let him go," Harry insisted. "Let him out."
  "Can't." Hagrid shook his head. "He's really small. He will die alone."
  We looked at the baby dragon. It has become three times longer in a week. Clouds of smoke were continuously billowing out of his nostrils.
  However, Hagrid didn't seem to notice it. Apparently, he had completely forgotten about everything, including his duties as a forester, and if he left the hut, it was only to get food for his ward. Empty brandy bottles rolled across the floor of the hut, which was littered with bird feathers.
  "I came up with a name for him-Norbert." Hagrid looked at the dragon with loving eyes.
  "He already knows me... Look here. Norbert! Norbert! Where's your mommy?"
  "He's crazy," I whispered, leaning into Harry's ear.
  "Hagrid," Harry called loudly. "Two more weeks, and Norbert won't fit in your cabin. Besides, we probably don't even have two days left! Malfoy can report you to Dumbledore at any moment!
  Hagrid bit his lip.
  "I... I know I can't leave him here forever, but I can't leave him either... You can't do that." Harry suddenly turned to me.
  "Charlie!" he exclaimed.
  "Well, now you're crazy, too," I said calmly. "My name is Ron, have you forgotten?"
  "No, I'm talking about Charlie, your older brother, who studies dragons in Romania. We can send Norbert to him. After all, Charlie will be able to take care of him, and when Norbert grows up, he will set him free!
  "Brilliant!" I yelled. "What do you think of the idea, Hagrid?"
  Hagrid didn't like the idea, but after much persuasion, the giant agreed to send Charlie an owl. Apparently, deep down, hoping that the answer would not come soon, or maybe not at all.
  ***
  The next week dragged on unusually slowly. On Wednesday, when everyone had gone to bed, Harry and Hermione were still sitting in the Common Room, waiting for me. It was already twelve o'clock when I arrived. After a moment, I took off my invisibility cloak. I was at Hagrid's, helping him feed Norbert, who was now eating dozens of dead rats. He started sniffing at my Scabers, too, so I left the rat in the tower.
  "He bit me!" I held out my hand, wrapped in a bloody handkerchief. "I probably won't even be able to hold a pen for a few days now. To be honest, I've never seen a scarier beast than a dragon in my life, and Hagrid is messing with it like it's a little fluffy rabbit. Just imagine: Norbert bit me, and Hagrid started scolding me for scaring his baby. And when I left, he sang him a lullaby."
  There was a sudden knock on the dark window.
  "It's Hedwig!" Harry exclaimed, rushing to the window to let the owl in. "She brought the answer."
  Harry, Hermione, and I put the letter on the table and bent over it.
  "Dear Ron,
  How are you? Thank you for the letter. I'll be happy to take the Norwegian humpback dragon. But getting him here won't be easy. I think it would be best to send it with my friends who will fly to visit me next week. The problem is that no one should see them transporting the dragon, because it's illegal. It will be ideal if you can bring the dragon to the highest tower of Hogwarts Castle on Saturday at midnight. Then they will have time to reach Romania before morning.
  Send me a reply as soon as possible.
  Love, Charlie."
  We looked at each other thoughtfully.
  "We have my invisibility cloak," Harry said slowly, correctly interpreting our doubts. "I think she'll be able to hide you and me and Norbert, so everything will work out."
  Even though this plan was a piece of cake, Hermione and I were happy for even such an ephemeral chance to get rid of the cursed dragon.
  ***
  And then something happened that no one expected. In the morning, my bitten hand swelled up, doubling in size. I couldn't decide if going to Madam Pomfrey's would be too risky, because she could probably tell right away that it was a dragon bite. However, after a few hours, I had no choice. The hand turned green. It seems that Norbert's fangs were poisonous. So I trudged to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey immediately plied me with potions to remove the poison and smeared my hand with some kind of ointment. After that, I settled into my bunk, trying to distract myself from the burning sensation, and drinking water. I also have a constant urge to go to the bathroom because of the potion.
  Harry and Hermione, who rushed to the hospital wing at the end of the day, found me in a terrible state.
  "It's not just the hand," I whispered. "Although it feels like it's about to fall off. Then Malfoy came to see me and told Madam Pomfrey that he had come to pick up the book he had given me, but in fact, to make fun of me. He threatened to tell Madam Pomfrey who really bit me. I told her it was a dog, but she didn't seem to believe me. I shouldn't have beaten Malfoy in public, because that's what he's taking revenge on us for now."
  Harry and Hermione tried to calm me down.
  "It's all over at midnight on Saturday," Hermione reminded me, but I wasn't happy about it at all. I jumped up in bed, and my face was covered with sweat.
  "Saturday at midnight!" I repeated hoarsely. "I just remembered that Malfoy took the book from me so that Madam Pomfrey would believe that he had come for it. And there was a letter from Charlie in that book! So now he knows everything..."
  Harry and Hermione didn't even have time to say anything about it. Madam Pomfrey came into the room and ushered them out, saying I needed to get some sleep. They left, and I sat gloomily on the pillow and tried to pass out. I will never work with dragons.
  While I was in the hospital, Harry and Hermione managed to pick up Norbert and hand him over to Charlie's friends. Unfortunately, they couldn't avoid getting into trouble. One hundred and fifty points as if from a bush. Horror. Yes, McGonagall didn't even take off so much from Fred and George at a time as during their one night walk.
  Chapter 14. The monster in the forbidden forest
  Now the Gryffindor house was in last place. He might still be able to win the Quidditch Cup, but he couldn't win the inter-house competition. And all because Harry and Hermione were caught on the Astronomy Tower. How could they forget to wear the invisibility cloak?
  At first, no one understood what had happened, and looking at the huge board on which the faculty's points were fixed, everyone thought it was a mistake. This simply couldn't happen - well, imagine how it could happen that the faculty had one hundred and fifty points less in the morning than it had in the evening? But an hour after getting up, everything turned out to be Harry Potter's fault, the famous Harry Potter, a member of the national Quidditch team and the hero of the last two matches. Him and two other stupid freshmen.
  Harry, who yesterday was the most popular student at school and everyone's favorite, in an instant turned into the most despised and hated. Even the students from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw departments abruptly changed their attitude towards him, because everyone wanted Slytherin to finally give up the school Cup to someone else. Wherever Harry went, they pointed fingers at him and said all sorts of hurtful words at him at the top of their voices, without even trying to whisper. Only the students from Slytherin at the sight of Harry began to applaud and shout loudly: "We owe you, Potter!"
  It was only me and Hermione who supported him. Even my brothers were offended by Harry.
  "You'll see, in a few weeks everyone will forget about it," I reassured Harry. "Fred and George have received tons of penalty points while they've been here, but everyone loves them anyway."
  "But they've never gotten minus one hundred and fifty points at a time, have they?" Harry asked sadly.
  "Well, not really," I admitted.
  It was time to end his nocturnal adventures and surveillance of Snape. Harry was so ashamed of his wrongdoing that he even went to Wood and offered to expel him from the team on his own. It was in the Gryffindor common room. I was just practicing my wand movements.
  "Expel them?!" Wood asked in a thunderous voice "And what will it give us? If we don't win at Quidditch, then how do we earn points?"
  Hermione and Neville were suffering too. But although no one talked to them, like Harry, they had a much easier time than he did, because they were not such famous personalities. However, Hermione even stopped, contrary to her usual habit, attracting attention to herself in class. She sat with her head down and silently completed the tasks. Neville was in herbology and I was in transfiguration and enchantment, and we were fighting for her.
  Harry, Hermione, and I would return to the Common Room after dinner, the three of us would sit down and study late into the night, memorizing the ingredients of the most complex potions, memorizing spells and counter-spells, memorizing the dates of magical discoveries and goblin rebellions. However, when the exams were about a week away, another incident occurred.
  Hermione was testing my knowledge of astronomy when an excited Harry came and told us about Professor Quirrell's surrender.
  "So Snape had gotten everything out of him!" I concluded when Harry told me what he had heard. "And now he knows how to remove Quirrell's spell against the Dark Forces..."
  "Yes, but there's still the Fluffy," Hermione reminded him.
  "Perhaps Snape himself found out how to get past him, and he no longer needs to find out from Hagrid." I suggested, looking around at the thousands of books that surrounded us. "I'm sure one of these volumes tells you how to bring Cerberus down. So what are we going to do, Harry?"
  I wanted to have an adventure again. But before Harry could open his mouth to answer me, Hermione jumped in.
  "We're going to Dumbledore's," she said flatly. "I should have gone to him a long time ago. And if we try to do something on our own, we'll probably get caught again, and then we'll definitely be kicked out of school.
  "But we have no proof!" Harry objected. "Quirrell is too scared to confirm our story. And it's enough for Snape to just say that he doesn't know how the troll got into the castle on Halloween, and that he didn't even come close to the third floor. And who do you think they'll believe? Him or us? Besides, it's no secret that we hate him. And Dumbledore will think that we made it all up to get Snape fired. Filch will never help us, even if he knows everything. Filch is too friendly with Snape, and besides, I'm sure Filch would only be happy if we were expelled from school. And don't forget - we don't know anything about the Philosopher's Stone and a Fluffy. If it turns out that we know about him, then we'll have to explain too much and we'll frame Hagrid."
  Hermione nodded in agreement, but I had my own opinion.
  "If we do a little investigation..." I began.
  "No," Harry said softly but weightily. "We've had enough of investigations."
  He pulled a map of Jupiter towards him and began to study the names of its moons. I shrugged my shoulders and continued to study astronomy.
  ***
  The next morning, at breakfast, Harry, Neville, and Hermione received notes. They all said the same thing:
  "To serve your sentence, be at the school exit at eleven o'clock tonight. Mr. Filch will be waiting for you there.
  Professor M. McGonagall"
  I stared at the note in surprise. I've never heard of punishments being imposed at night. At eleven o'clock in the evening, my friends said goodbye to me and took Neville downstairs.
  ***
  I was sitting in an armchair by the fireplace in the Common room, waiting for my friends to return, and I fell asleep unnoticed. When Harry shook me roughly, I was dreaming of a Quidditch match. However, after a few seconds, I woke up completely and listened to Hermione and Harry's story with my eyes wide open.
  Filch dragged them to Hagrid and they went to the forbidden forest. At night! On a full moon! Hunting the unicorn killer! What's going on in this school?! It really seems like it's worth writing to your parents.
  Harry was so agitated that he couldn't sit up and paced up and down the room, trying to stay close to the fireplace. He was shivering.
  "Snape wants to steal the stone for Voldemort. And Voldemort is waiting in the forest... And all this time we thought that Snape wanted to steal the stone in order to become rich... And VoldeMort..."
  "Don't say that name!" I asked in a frightened whisper. I was afraid Voldemort might hear us. Or his followers.
  Harry ignored my request.
  "Firenze saved me, but he shouldn't have done that... Bane was furious... He said that Firenze had prevented what the planets had predicted from happening... They must have foreshadowed the return of Voldemort... Bane thinks Firenze should have let Voldemort kill me. I think the stars predicted my death."
  "Stop saying that name!" I hissed.
  "So I just have to wait for the moment when Snape steals the stone." Harry continued. His eyes were feverishly bright, and his body was shaking slightly. Then Voldemort can come here and finish me off... I think Bane will be happy."
  "Harry, but everyone says that the only person You-Know-Who has ever been afraid of is Professor Dumbledore." It was obvious that Hermione was terribly scared, but she still found words of comfort for Harry. "As long as he's here, you-Know-Who won't come here and hurt you. And who said that the centaurs correctly interpreted the location of the stars? And Professor McGonagall says it's a very inaccurate science."
  When we finished the conversation, it was already light. When we went up to the bedroom, Harry's invisibility cloak was lying on his bed.
  Chapter 15 exam time.
  Exams have begun.
  The Philosopher's Stone was still in place-we regularly approached the door leading to the forbidden corridor. Harry put his ear to it to make sure that Fluffy was alive and well.
  It was terribly hot outside. In the huge office where we wrote our exam papers, it was not only hot, but also unbearably stuffy. Before the exams, everyone was given special pens, enchanted so that anyone who picked up this pen would not be able to copy.
  We also had practical exams. Professor Flitwick invited us into his office one at a time and demanded that the pineapple on the table dance. Professor McGonagall gave us the task of turning a mouse into a snuffbox. The number of points received for the exam depended on how beautiful the snuffbox turned out to be. But if the snuffbox had a mustache, the score was automatically lowered. And at Professor Snape's exam, everyone was terribly nervous, trying to remember how to make a potion that takes away memory. Barely remembering the ingredients, he brewed a potion. It really came out a little thin. Well, that's fine. Harry's is even worse.
  Harry had a severe stabbing pain in his forehead, which had been bothering him since the night of his detention in the woods. Neville was convinced that Harry was just nervous about exams and that was why he couldn't sleep at night. He had nightmares and often screamed and got up. I tried to send him to Madam Pomfrey, but he refused.
  Hermione and I were much less worried about the safety of the Philosopher's Stone. The thought of the possible appearance of Voldemort, of course, scared us. But not as much as Harry. Besides, we were so busy repeating what we'd learned that we didn't have time to worry about Snape.
  The last exam was history of magic. Within an hour, we had to answer questions in writing about ancient wizards who had lost their minds - which of them invented the self-mixing cauldron and all in the same spirit. And freedom was waiting for us ahead. A whole week of freedom before the announcement of the exam results. And when Professor Beans said it was time to hand in the papers, I rejoiced along with the others.
  "I thought it was going to be much more complicated," Hermione noticed when we went out into the sunny schoolyard with the other students. "It turned out that I didn't even have to memorize the codex of the werewolves of sixteen hundred and thirty-seven and the history of the rebellion of Alfric the Impatient."
  Hermione always liked to discuss her written work after the exam, but I said it made me feel bad. And we slowly went down to the lake and sat down under a huge tree. The twins and Lee Jordan were having fun on the shore, tugging on the tentacles of a squid that had swum into the warm shallow water.
  "No more repetitions," I sighed, stretching out on the grass, and an expression of indescribable happiness appeared on my face. "And you, Harry, could have looked more cheerful - after all, we still have a whole week before the announcement of the exam results."
  Harry rubbed his forehead. Last week, I went to Madam Pomfrey for headache painkillers and started giving Harry a drink at night.
  "Don't you think I'd like to know what's going on with me?!" He exploded. "The scar is constantly in pain - this has happened before, but rarely. And now the pain hardly goes away at all."
  "Go to Madam Pomfrey's," Hermione suggested
  "But I'm not sick, and Ron brought me some painkillers." Harry objected. "I think it's a warning... And it means that I'm in danger..."
  I smiled serenely. I was too hot to really think about Harry's words.
  "Relax, because Hermione's right," I advised. "As long as Dumbledore is nearby, the stone is safe. And besides, we have no proof that Snape found out how to get past the Fluffy. Last time, the dog almost bit off his leg, so now he won't act in a hurry. And Hagrid would never tell anyone how to subdue Fluffy. Neville would rather be accepted into the England Quidditch team than Hagrid would betray Dumbledore.
  Harry nodded.
  "It's all the exams, Harry." Hermione declared. "For example, I woke up last night and started flipping through my transfiguration notebook, and only an hour later I remembered that we had already passed this exam."
  It sounded convincing. My friend stared up at the bright blue sky, noticing an owl flying towards the castle. I followed his gaze. Oh, there's a letter in someone's beak.
  Harry jumped to his feet.
  "Where are you going?" I asked sleepily. I wanted to lie on the soft green grass, not run after this hurricane. My friend is running so fast that I can't keep up with him. Even though I run in the morning.
  "I just remembered something," Harry explained. His face turned white. "We need to go to Hagrid's right away."
  "What for?" Ten minutes later, Hermione asked for the hundredth time, trying to keep up with Harry rushing ahead.
  "Don't you think it's all very strange?" Harry finally said, climbing the grassy slope. "Strangely, Hagrid dreamed of a dragon more than anything else in the world. And then suddenly a stranger appeared, who miraculously had a dragon egg in his pocket. After all, dragon breeding is prohibited. How many people do you think are wandering around England with dragon eggs in their pockets? And how many people are lucky enough to meet their Hagrid? Why didn't I think of that before?"
  "Do you think they brought it to him on purpose? But why?" I asked, puzzled, but Harry had already started running and therefore did not answer.
  Hagrid was sitting in an armchair two steps away from his hut, with his shirt sleeves rolled up and his trouser legs rolled up, peeling peas. There was a large pot at his feet.
  "Hi!" - He said, smiling. "Well, did you pass everything? Would you like some tea?"
  "I'd love to..." I began, but Harry cut me off.
  "No, Hagrid, we're in a hurry. We just stopped by to check something with you. "Do you remember the night you won at Norbert's cards? Who did the stranger look like?"
  "I don't know." Hagrid shrugged his shoulders. The question clearly didn't bother him. "He was wearing a hood." Hagrid noticed how Harry, Hermione, and I froze, and raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "Yes, this is a common thing at the Boar's Head... well.. in this... in the village bar. There's a lot of stuff... er... Strange people hanging around. You can meet anyone, for sure," he explained. "Maybe it was a dragon trader, so he hid his face, it's illegal. So I didn't see who he looked like."
   Harry sank to the ground.
  "What were you talking to him about, Hagrid? Did you say that you work at Hogwarts?"
  "Maybe." Hagrid looked unusually serious. It seemed like it took an effort for him to remember that evening. "Yes... He kind of asked me what I was doing. And I told him that I work as a forester at the school... He also asked me... er-er... about the various animals I'm looking after here... Well, I answered him... And then he said that he always... well... I dreamed of having a dragon... And then... I don't remember very well, he was buying me drinks all the time... Now, now... Yeah, he said later that he had an egg, and if I wanted to, we could play cards on it... And yet... here... He asked me if I knew how to handle dragons. He didn't want to lose it to anyone... And I told him that... That one... After the Dragon Cannon, I can easily handle it..."
  "And he is... Did he ask anything about the Fluffy?" Harry asked.
  "Well... yes... What's the big deal? Do you think there are a lot of Cerberus roaming the world? Well, I told you about the Fluffy... well... That he's cute if you know how to treat him, yes! Just sing to him, or play the flute a little, or some other instrument, and he'll fall asleep right away..."
   Hagrid suddenly looked scared.
  "I shouldn't have told you that!" he roared. "In short, forget what I said here! Hey, where are you going?"
  Harry, Hermione, and I didn't say a word to each other until we were inside the castle. It was very cold and gloomy here, not like in the open air.
  "We need to go to Dumbledore," said Harry. "Hagrid told that stranger how to get past a Fluffy. And it was either Snape or Voldemort, hiding his face under a hood and getting Hagrid drunk so that he couldn't recognize him. I hope Dumbledore believes us. And maybe Firenze will confirm my words, if Bane doesn't stop him. By the way, where is Dumbledore's office?"
  We looked around, hoping to see a sign. We were never told where Dumbledore lives and works. And we didn't remember anyone ever being called to a professor.
  "We're going to have to..." Harry began, but was cut off by a distant voice.
  "What are you three doing in the castle?" Professor McGonagall was approaching us. She had a stack of books in her hands.
  "We want to see Professor Dumbledore." Hermione stepped forward bravely, surprising Harry and me with her courage.
  "To see Professor Dumbledore?" Professor McGonagall asked again, looking as if she found these words suspicious. "But why?"
  Harry took a deep breath and spoke quickly.
  "It's a secret," the professor's nostrils began to flare angrily.
  "Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago," Professor McGonagall said coldly. "He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and immediately went back to London."
  "Has he gone away?" Harry said in a weak voice. "At this hour?"
  "You see, Mr. Potter, Professor Dumbledore is a very famous wizard, and he often has urgent matters."
  "But it's important," Harry insisted.
  "Potter, you mean." Professor McGonagall did not add her usual "mister" to his last name. This meant that she was already beside herself and was only holding herself together with an effort of will. "Are you saying that your case is much more important than the one that sent Professor Dumbledore to the Ministry of Magic?"
  "Listen, Professor," Harry began in an uncertain tone. "This is about the Philosopher's stone..."
  It is unknown what Professor McGonagall expected to hear from him, but clearly not these words. The books fell out of her hands, but she didn't even notice it.
  "Where from... How do you know that?" She spoke nervously.
  "Professor, I think... I know... like a Sne..." Harry broke off, immediately correcting himself. "That someone wants to steal the Philosopher's Stone. I need to talk to Professor Dumbledore."
  Professor McGonagall was shocked by what she heard. But she didn't lose her suspicion and continued to stare at Harry intently.
  "Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow" Finally, she said after a long pause. "I have no idea how you found out about the stone, but be sure that it is very well guarded and no one will be able to steal it."
  "But the professor..."
  "Potter, I know what I'm talking about." Professor McGonagall snapped. "She bent down and began to pick up the fallen books. I think it's better for the three of you to go outside and enjoy the good weather properly."
  She left, but we didn't follow her advice.
  "It's going to happen tonight." Harry declared as soon as Professor McGonagall was far enough away and couldn't hear us anymore. "Snape is going to the hiding place today. He found out everything he needed to know and waited for Dumbledore to leave. I'm sure he's the one who sent Dumbledore the owl, and everyone at the Ministry of Magic will be terribly surprised when Dumbledore shows up."
  "- But what about us..."
  Hermione gasped for air. Harry and I, noticing that she was looking behind us, quickly looked around. Snape was standing behind us.
  "Good afternoon," he greeted politely. We stared at him in silence, our eyes wide open. "Do not miss the opportunity to enjoy the good weather," Snape said with a strange crooked smile."
  "We..." Harry began.
  "You should exercise reasonable caution." Snape finished for him. "You look like you're up to something. And your department can't afford another hundred penalty points, can it?"
  Harry blushed deeply. We had already turned our backs on Snape when he called out to Harry.
  "I'm warning you, Potter, one more night walk around the school and I'll personally make sure you get expelled. And now, have a nice day."
  Snape turned around and walked towards the staff room. We were leaving the castle, descending the stone steps, when Harry turned to us.
  "That's what we have to do," he whispered fervently. "One of us has to keep an eye on Snape. You need to get up at the staff room and follow him when he comes out of it. This assignment is for you, Hermione."
  "But why me?"
  "It's obvious," I replied. "You can say that you are waiting for Professor Flitwick, you are his favorite, as well as many others, by the way. And if Flitwick ends up in the staff room, you'll find something to say to him. "Oh, Professor Flitwick, I'm so worried, it seems to me that I answered question 146 incorrectly in the exam paper..."
  "Shut up," said Hermione. I did a very similar portrayal of her and her voice, but Hermione didn't seem offended at all. "Well, I agree."
  "And we will be on guard in the corridor of the third floor." Harry turned to me. "Let's go."
  But the plan didn't work out. No sooner had we reached the door behind which Fluffy was, than Professor McGonagall appeared from nowhere. This time, she didn't hold back her emotions.
  "I suppose you think you're much more reliable guards than a dozen spells?!" The professor was loudly indignant. Enough of this nonsense! If I see you near this door again, or if someone tells me that they saw you here, Gryffindor will receive another fifty penalty points."
  I had just opened my mouth to resent such an injustice when she interrupted me.
  "Yes, Weasley, my own house!" Harry and I returned to the Gryffindor Common Room, and before Harry could say that at least Snape was being looked after, Hermione came into the room.
  "I'm so sorry, Harry!" She whimpered. "Snape came out of the staff room and asked me what I was doing here. I said I was waiting for Flitwick. And Snape went and called him. And I just got rid of him. And while I was talking to Flitwick, Snape left, and now I do not know where he is."
  "Well, it looks like the hour has struck, doesn't it?" Harry spoke slowly. He was pale, but his eyes were sparkling.
  Hermione and I stared at him in silence.
  "I'm going to leave my bedroom tonight and try to get the stone first." There was a desperate determination in Harry's voice.
  "You're crazy!" I exclaimed.
  "You can't!" Hermione picked up the baton. "After what McGonagall and Snape told you? You're going to be expelled!"
  "SO WHAT?!" Harry shouted. "Don't you understand anything? If Snape steals the stone, Voldemort will return! Haven't you heard about the times when he tried to seize power? Then no one will be kicked out of Hogwarts, because there simply won't be a school! Voldemort will level it to the ground or turn it into a school of the Dark Arts! So penalty points don't matter anymore! Let's say you win a competition between faculties. So what? Will Voldemort leave you and your families alone? If I get caught before I get to the stone, well, I'll have to go back to the Dursleys and wait there for Voldemort to find me. I'm just going to die later than I could have died if I hadn't done anything today, because I'll never go over to the Dark Side! Therefore, today I will go to the place where the stone is kept. And no matter what you two say, it won't stop me! If you remember, Voldemort killed my parents. I can't sit back and wait for him to start killing others..."
  After finishing his monologue, Harry stared at me and Hermione intently, as if he expected us to start arguing with him. We stared at him in silence. Well, what can I say if he's right. My knees are shaking from the possibility of meeting Voldemort, but I can't leave my friend alone in the lurch.
  "You're right, Harry," after a while, Hermione answered in a low voice.
  "I'm using the invisibility cloak," said Harry. "I was lucky to get it back."
  So, you can't let him go alone.
  "Do you think the three of us can fit under it?" I asked.
  "What do you mean, the three of us?" Harry didn't understand.
  "Come on," I said. "Did you think we'd leave you alone?"
  "Of course we won't," Hermione confirmed fervently. "Do you think you can get to the stone without our help? And now I'm going to go and look through the textbooks, maybe I'll come across some useful information..."
  "But if we get caught, you'll be expelled too." Harry noticed.
  "Oh, no," said Hermione gloomily. "Flitwick told me in confidence that I scored a hundred and twenty points on his exam, although no one gets higher than a hundred. I don't think they'll kick me out after that."
  I said nothing. Even though I might be expelled, I didn't want to leave my friend alone.
  After dinner, we returned to the living room and sat apart from each other so that no one would think we were up to something. Although if Professor McGonagall had come here, she would have immediately assumed the opposite. But the teachers didn't come in here, and everyone else preferred to ignore Harry and his company - no one had talked to us until now.
  Hermione flipped through her notes, hoping that it would help her to break the spells protecting the stone. Harry and I were silent, thinking about what we had to do.
  Gradually, the room emptied. Sleep time was approaching.
  "Go get your robe," I whispered when Lee Jordan finally came out of the room, yawning and stretching. Harry darted upstairs to the dark bedroom, returning a few minutes later in a silver bundle."
  "Let's put on the robe right here and make sure it hides us all." Harry suggested it. "If Filch suddenly sees one foot wandering down the corridor, he will..."
  "What are you planning?" a voice came from the corner of the room. So, we sailed. And who do we have?
  The three of us turned our heads sharply when we saw Neville frozen in his chair.
  He was holding his freedom-loving toad in his arms. Apparently, she tried to sneak out again, and Neville ended up in the corner precisely because he was looking for her.
  "It's okay, Neville, it's nothing special." Harry reassured him, hurriedly hiding his robes behind his back.
  Neville looked carefully at our guilty faces.
  "Are you going to leave your bedroom in the middle of the night again" He stated confidently.
  "No, no, no!" Hermione babbled. "Of course not. Why don't you go to bed, Neville?"
  You can't leave here. Neville said stubbornly.
  "You'll get caught again. And our faculty will have even more problems."
  "You don't understand," Harry couldn't stand it. "This is very important."
  But Neville was clearly very determined.
  "I won't let you out." He stood up, blocking the exit to the corridor with himself. "I... I will fight you!"
  "Neville!" I exploded. "Get away from the portrait and don't be an idiot..."
  "Don't you dare call me an idiot!" Neville retorted. "I don't think you should break the rules anymore! And you, Ron, taught me yourself that you need to be able to stand up for yourself!"
  "Yes, but we're your friends." I spread my hands. "Neville, you don't understand what you're doing."
  I stepped forward, and Neville let go of his Trevor, who fell to the floor and immediately disappeared in an unknown direction.
  "Well, then try hitting me!" Neville raised his fists. "I'm waiting!"
  Harry turned to Hermione.
  "Do something," he said desperately. Hermione stepped forward.
  "I'm sorry, Neville," she said softly. "I'm really, really sorry."
  And she raised her wand.
  "Petrificus Totalus!" She exclaimed, pointing her wand at Neville.
  Neville's hands shot to his sides, slapping his body loudly. The legs jerked together. Neville stretched out and stood swaying. And then he fell face down.
  Hermione ran over to Neville and turned him over. Neville's jaw was clenched tightly -he couldn't speak. Only his eyes moved, staring at us in horror.
  "What did you do to him?" Harry whispered.
  "It's a paralysis of the body," Hermione replied sadly. "Oh, Neville, I'm so sorry."
  "You forced us, Neville, we don't have time to explain everything to you." Harry added.
  "You'll figure it out later, Neville," I put an end to the conversation.
  Neville lying motionless on the floor seemed to us a bad omen. But there's nothing to do, we have to go. The robe covered all three of them securely. But we were nervous anyway, and in the darkness that surrounded us, we mistook every statue for Filch lurking, and any breeze, even the faintest and most distant one, for Peeves' approach. No sooner had we reached the very first staircase than Mrs. Norris appeared at the bottom of it.
  "Maybe kick her, I've been dreaming about it for a long time" I whispered in Harry's ear, but he shook his head. We carefully crept past the cat. And although Mrs. Norris was watching us intently with her lamp-like eyes, she clearly didn't see us because she didn't do anything.
  We haven't seen anyone else yet. But as we approached the stairs leading to the third floor, we noticed Peeves. Humming, he was doing something with a carpet lying on the stairs. Apparently, he was preparing a surprise for schoolchildren who, having stepped on this carpet, had to stumble and fall.
  "Who's there?" Peeves suddenly asked as we approached him. His evil black eyes became even angrier. "I know you're here, even though I can't see you. Are you a ghost? Or maybe a schoolboy?"
  Peeves rose into the air and hovered there, staring intently in our direction.
  "We should get Filch," Peeves said thoughtfully. "Tell him that someone invisible is wandering around the school."
  "Peeves," Harry said in a hoarse whisper. "The Blood Baron has his own reasons for being invisible."
  Peeves almost fell down the stairs out of fear. He was almost at the ground when he caught himself and hovered, almost touching the steps. Although my friend's whisper made me feel sick to my stomach. He sounded so sepulchral. There's something wrong with this robe.
  Did you really believe it?! Was it some necromancer's old artifact? But the Potters are descended from the Peverells.
  "I'm sorry, Your bloody Grace, Mr. Baron," He saluted obsequiously. "I was wrong, oh, I was wrong... I didn't recognize you... Of course, I couldn't see you, because you're invisible... Forgive old Peeves for his silly joke, please, sir."
  "I've got things to do here, Peeves." Harry rasped in a sepulchral whisper "Don't come here tonight."
  "Of course, sir, of course I will." Peeves muttered in fright, taking off into the air. "I wish you success in your business, Mr. Baron, and I won't bother you anymore."
  And Peeves hurriedly disappeared.
  "Brilliant, Harry!" I whispered. "This robe was probably made by a necromancer from your family."
  Harry looked at me in shock.
  "But the Potters are artefactors." Harry didn't believe him.
  "Yes, but the Perewells were necromancers, and your clan founder married the daughter of the clan head. Let's go."
  A few seconds later, we were standing in front of the door leading to the forbidden corridor. The door was wide open.
  "Well, then," Harry said calmly. "So Snape had already passed the Flaffy."
  The sight of the open door reminded us all of what lies ahead. Harry turned first to Hermione and then to me.
  "If you want to leave, I won't take offense at you," he said. "You can take the robe, I won't need it here anymore."
  "Don't be a fool," I advised. "Did I just walk with you for company?"
  "We're with you," Hermione confirmed.
  Harry stepped inside, brushing against the door. There was a loud creaking sound, and a rumbling, thunderous roar reached us. The dog couldn't see us, but he turned his head in our direction, sniffing with all three noses. The mantle couldn't stop him from discovering us.
  "What's that lying under his feet?" Hermione whispered.
  "It looks like a harp," I replied. "Snape must have left her here."
  "Fluffy falls asleep when he hears music, and wakes up when it stops." Harry reminded us. "Well, have we started?"
  He raised the flute Hagrid had given him to his lips and blew. A friend would sometimes play simple tunes at Hagrid's hut at his prompting. Yes, and Hermione tried to play. At the first sound, all six of the Cannon's eyes began to close. Harry blew without stopping and barely had time to catch his breath, playing a simple lullaby. The growling grew fainter and gradually subsided.
  The dog swayed and sank onto its belly, and then fell on its side. There was no doubt that he was fast asleep.
  "Keep playing!" I whispered as we took off our invisibility cloak and slowly moved towards the hatch, which was guarded by Fluffy. The hot, fetid breath escaping from the three mouths was felt more and more strongly. "I think we can easily open the hatch," I assured them, standing on tiptoe and glancing behind Cannon. Do you want to go first, Hermione?
  "No way!" She exclaimed, stepping back.
  "Good" I gritted my teeth, gathering my strength, and cautiously stepped over the paws of a Fluffy. And then he bent over the hatch and pulled on the ring.
  "What do you see there?" Hermione whispered excitedly.
  "Nothing. Darkness. You can't see any steps, so you'll have to jump."
  Harry, who was still playing the flute, raised his hand and waved, attracting my attention. And then he pointed his finger at himself.
  "Do you want to go first? Are you sure?" I asked again. "To be honest, I don't know how far we will have to fly. Give the flute to Hermione, Fluffy must not wake up."
  Harry handed the flute to Hermione. It took several seconds before she brought it to her lips, and the three-headed monster was already twitching and growling. But as soon as the sounds of the flute reached him, he fell asleep again.
  Harry stepped over Fluffy and peered through the hatch. He crawled through the hole, holding on tightly to the edges of the hatch, and finally hung on by his fingertips. And then he looked up at me.
  "If something happens to me, get out of here," he said. "Run to Hagrid, so that he immediately sends an owl to Dumbledore, understand?"
  "Got it," I nodded.
  "I hope to see you soon..." And with that, Harry released his grip and flew down. PLOP!
  Harry landed with a strange muffled sound, as if he had fallen on something soft.
  "It's all right!" he shouted. "You can jump, a soft landing awaits you!"
  I wouldn't be able to land on it now. I went around the hatch and jumped down.
  "What is this thing?" I asked first. There were some stalks before me.
  "I don't know, some kind of plant, probably," Harry shook his head. "I think it's here specifically to soften the landing. Come on, Hermione!"
  The music coming from above stopped. There was a loud barking, but Hermione was already flying towards us and soon landed next door. It's a good thing it's not on us.
  "We're probably very deep under the school," she remarked.
  "That's for sure. We're lucky to have this plant here," I smiled.
  "Lucky?! Hermione suddenly screamed, Igniting lumos. "Look at you!"
  She jumped to her feet and backed up against the damp wall. She did it with great difficulty, because the moment she landed, the plant immediately began to wrap around her ankles. And as for Harry and me, the long creeping shoots managed to tie our legs so that we didn't even notice it.
  Hermione managed to free herself before the plant could entangle her, and now, pressed against the wall, she watched in horror as Harry and I tried to tear off the stems. But the more effort we put in, the stronger and faster the snake-like shoots wrapped around us.
  "Don't move!" Hermione ordered. "I know what it is. It's a "hell of a trap"!"
  "I'm awfully glad that's what it's called!" I growled, trying to stop the stalk that was trying to wrap itself around my neck. "This, of course, will help us!"
  "Shut up, I'm trying to remember how to kill them!" Hermione replied.
  "Then hurry up, I can't breathe anymore!"
  " Then hurry up, I can't breathe anymore!" Harry choked out, struggling with the stalk wrapped around his chest. I silently pulled the stem away from my neck.
  "Hell's snares, hell's snares," Hermione repeated tensely, wrinkling her forehead. "What did Professor Sprout say? This plant loves darkness and humidity..."
  "So make a fire!" Harry shouted, panting.
  "Yes, of course, but what should I set on fire? I don't see anything wooden anywhere, honestly!" There was desperation in Hermione's voice, and she was nervously wringing her hands.
  "ARE YOU CRAZY?" Harry bellowed. "ARE YOU A MAGICIAN OR NOT?"
  "Oh, that's right!" Hermione whipped out her wand and waved it, whispering something. A blue flame burst from the wand, the same one she had used to set Snape's clothes on fire at the Quidditch match. Just a second later, Harry and I felt the stalks' embrace weaken. The plant tried to crawl away from the light and heat. Convulsively twisting and spinning, the appendages that had enveloped us hurriedly unwound and finally disappeared.
  "It's good that you were attentive in herbology class, Hermione." Harry said, wiping the sweat off his face.
  "Yeah," I agreed. "And it's a good thing Harry didn't lose his head in a moment of danger. "But what should I set on fire? I don't see anything wooden..."" I mimicked Hermione. "The witch is called."
  "Let's go." Harry waved his hand in the direction of the only stone passage that led from here.
  All we could hear-except our footsteps, of course-were drops of water falling from the walls. The corridor went down sharply.
  "Do you hear?" I whispered.
  From somewhere above came a soft rustling and a soft ringing.
  "Do you think it's a ghost?" Harry asked me.
  "I don't know..." I shrugged my shoulders. "But it looks like wings in general."
  Harry thought about it.
  "There's a light ahead... And I see something moving there," Finally, he said. "And whatever it is, we have no other choice."
  We reached the end of the corridor and found ourselves at the entrance to a brightly lit hall with a high arched ceiling. The hall was full of fluttering and circling birds, small and bright as precious stones. There was a heavy wooden door on the other side of the hall.
  "Do you think they'll attack us if we try to cross the hall?" I asked.
  "Maybe." Harry thought about it. "They don't look particularly dangerous, but if they attack all at once... Well, there's no other way... I'll try..."
  Harry sucked in a deep breath, covered his head with his hands, and rushed to the door. He reached the door and grabbed the handle - the door was locked.
  After making sure that the birds weren't dangerous, Harry turned to Hermione and me and waved at us.
  We pulled the door towards us and pushed it with our shoulders, but even the three of us couldn't open it. Even the Alohomora spell, which Hermione had cast several times, didn't help.
  "And what now?" I asked.
  "These birds... They can't just be here for decoration." Hermione said wisely.
  We raised our heads, looking at the bright, shiny birds fluttering over our heads...
  "These are not birds!" Harry suddenly shouted. "These are the keys! The winged keys! Take a closer look and you'll see for yourself. These are the keys, which means..."
  Harry looked around.
  "Of course, look!" he exclaimed. "Brooms! We have to find the right key!"
  "But there are hundreds of them here!" Hermione was horrified. I leaned over the door, examining the lock. I took a closer look at the lock in the door.
  "We need a big antique key... It's probably silver, the same as the door handle."
  We quickly straddled the brooms, rose into the air and found ourselves in a cloud of keys. At first, we tried to grab what we needed at random. But the enchanted keys dodged, diving sharply or gaining altitude, so it seemed that it was simply impossible to catch them.
  However, Harry did not become the youngest hunter in the last hundred years for nothing. After circling for a few minutes in a whirlpool of colorful feathers, he noticed a huge silver key with a dented wing. It looked like he had been caught and forcibly forced into the castle quite recently.
  "Here he is!" Harry shouted to us. "This big one, right here... no, over there... with bright blue wings... One wing is dented!"
  I flew where Harry was pointing, crashed into the ceiling, and almost fell off the broom.
  "We need to surround him!" Harry shouted, not letting the key out of his sight. "Ron, you go in from above, and you, Hermione, stay below and stop him from coming down. I'll try to grab him. Are you ready?"
  "Yeah." We exhaled.
  "HERE WE GO!"
  I climbed up, Hermione rushed down, the key slipped away from both of us, darting to the side, and Harry rushed after him, pinning him against the wall with outstretched hand. There was an unpleasant crunch, which was drowned out by Hermione's and my enthusiastic cheers.
  We landed hurriedly, and Harry darted to the door. He slammed the key into the lock, turned it, and there was a click. At that moment, the key burst out of the keyhole and flew up heavily. He looked very rumpled and battered.
  "Are you ready?" Harry asked, holding on to the door handle. Hermione and I nodded, and he pulled the door open.
  The next room was so dark that nothing could be seen at all. However, as soon as we took a few steps, the room was suddenly flooded with bright light.
  We all stared in amazement. We were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, right behind the black stone pieces that were taller than the three of us, even me. There were white pieces on the other side of the board. Harry, Hermione, and I shivered - the white figures, unlike the black ones, had no faces.
  "So what do we do now?" Harry whispered.
  "In my opinion, the answer is quite obvious," I said. "We have to win to be on the other side of the room."
  There, behind the white figures, was another door.
  "So how do we win?" Hermione asked nervously.
  "I'm thinking," I said after a moment's thought. "We have to become figures."
  I boldly stepped forward and, approaching the black horseman, who was playing the role of a chess knight, touched his horse. In an instant, the stone figure came to life. The horse began to dig the ground with its hooves, and the rider turned his helmeted head and looked down at me.
  "Do we... er... do we need to join you to get to the other side?" I stammered.
  The knight nodded. I turned to Harry and Hermione.
  "I'll have to think about it," I whispered. "I think we should take the places of the three black figures..."
  Harry and Hermione waited in silence for me to finish my thoughts.
  "Anyway," I finally raised my head. "No offense, but I'm a much better chess player than you are..."
  "And we're not offended," Harry quickly interjected. "Just tell us what to do."
  "You, Harry, take the place of that elephant. And you, Hermione, take the place of this rook."
  "And you?" they asked in unison.
  "I'll be a horse," I said confidently. It looks like the pieces were listening to our conversation, because in the next instant, the knight, bishop, and rook turned and left the board, freeing up three squares. And Harry, Hermione, and I took them without hesitation.
  "The whites always start" I said, looking at the other side of the board. "Yeah... That's it..."
  The white pawn moved two squares ahead. I began to guide the black figures, who obediently stood where I pointed them. I tried to calculate all my moves and the opponent's and tried not to think about what would happen if we lost.
  "Harry, move four squares forward!" I commanded.
  The first time I felt uneasy was when the enemy attacked our second rider. The white queen knocked him to the floor and pulled him off the board - the knight, who was lying face down, did not move.
  "I had to sacrifice him." I whispered, although I was also shocked- not by the surprise of what had happened, but by the brutality of the massacre. Hermione, you can take this elephant now.
  The white figures were ruthless. Soon there was a whole mountain of motionless black bodies lying by the board, which meant that our turn could come soon. Twice now, I've only noticed at the very last moment that Harry and Hermione are in danger. I myself was constantly rushing around the board, and I had to admit that, despite the brutality of the opponent, there were not many more white pieces left on it than black ones.
  "We're almost there," I whispered feverishly. "Let me think about it... Let me think about it..."
  The White Queen turned her absent face to me. After calculating the remaining options, I realized that I had only one way out.
  "Yes..." I said softly. "It's the only way... I'll have to sacrifice myself. I hope she doesn't break my skull."
  "No!" Harry and Hermione protested together.
  "But this is chess!" I shouted back. "You have to make sacrifices here! I'll take one step forward and she'll pick me up, and then you, Harry, can checkmate the king!"
  "But..." Harry began.
  "Do you want to stop Snape or not?" My voice was firm and confident. Even though I didn't have much confidence in the correctness of my actions.
  "But, Ron..." Hermione interjected.
  "Listen, if you don't hurry up, Snape will have the stone!" I was right, and Harry and Hermione couldn't help but admit it. "Are you ready? - I asked. "I'm off, and when you checkmate them, don't waste any time."
  I stepped forward, and the white queen darted towards me. Swinging her arm, she brought her nominal hand down hard on my head, and I fell heavily to the floor. Blood trickled down the top of my head, and I passed out as Hermione screamed.
  CHAPTER 16 The farewell feast.
  "Ron, Harry's awake." Hermione jumped up to me. I wonder how she found out.
  "Let's go visit him soon."
  I put down the chess set and rubbed my aching head. Damn, she cracked my skull, you bastard. We put on our robes and went to Harry's infirmary.
  But Madam Pomfrey balked and wouldn't let us in. While she was talking to Harry, we waited outside the door to the medical wing. Finally, she opened the door, letting Hermione and me into the room.
  "Harry!" Hermione screamed, rushing towards Potter.
  "Oh, Harry, we were sure you were..." Hermione stopped herself from saying the word "die." "Dumbledore was so worried..."
  "The whole school is talking about what happened," I said. "And what really happened
   there?"
  It was one of those rare occasions when the truth turns out to be much stranger and more exciting than the most ridiculous rumors. Harry told us everything - about Quirrell and the mirror, about Voldemort and the stone. Hermione and I were very good listeners. We gaped at the right places. And when he told us about what was hidden under Quirrell's turban, Hermione screamed loudly.
  "So the stone is gone?" I asked when Harry stopped talking. "So Flamel is going to die?"
  "I asked that question too," Harry nodded. "But Dumbledore did... I'll remember now... He said that for a highly organized mind, death is just another adventure."
  "I always said he was crazy." I responded with adoration in my voice. Dumbledore was my idol.
  "And what happened to you after we broke up?" Harry asked in turn.
  "Well, I went back and fixed Ron up, and it wasn't easy. The blood didn't want to stop, and a concussion was such a thing." Hermione rolled her eyes.
  "And then we hurried to the owlery. But on the way out of school, they ran into Dumbledore. He already knew everything, can you imagine? He just asked: "Harry went after him, didn't he?" and he ran to the third floor, to the hatch.
  "Do you think he set it up like this on purpose? Maybe he wanted you to do it." I asked thoughtfully. Since he's the one who sent you the invisibility cloak and all..."
  "Well, you know!" Hermione exploded. "If it's him... I mean, it's terrible, because you could have been killed..."
  "No, it was all right." Harry answered after a pause. "He's a strange man, Dumbledore. I think he just wanted to give me a chance. And that he, in general, knows about everything that happens here. So Dumbledore was aware of what we were up to. However, instead of stopping us, he taught me something, prepared me for what was about to happen. I don't think I found the Erised mirror by accident-he was the one who pushed me to find it, and he explained to me how it works. I even think he was the one who decided if I had the right to face Voldemort one-on-one. And I proved that I am ready for it..."
  "No, Dumbledore is really crazy!" I exclaimed proudly. "Listen, Harry, you shouldn't stay here too long - tomorrow there will be a festive feast on the occasion of the end of the school year. Of course, we don't have much to celebrate-of course, Slytherin won the inter-house competition, and we didn't do well in Quidditch either. The last game you missed, the Ravenclaw boys blew us apart like a steamroller. But the food at the feast will be delicious," Ron promised his friend.
  At that moment, Madam Pomfrey burst into the room.
  "You've been sitting here for fifteen minutes now" She said sternly. "Now get out of here!"
  Then she kicked us out the door. I hope she lets Harry out to the feast tomorrow.
  ***
  Harry arrived at the banquet when the hall was already full. When he entered the Great Hall, all the faculties were already there.
  Since the competition between the houses was won by Slytherin for the seventh time in a row, the hall was decorated in green and silver colors. There was a huge Slytherin banner with a snake on it on the wall behind the teacher's desk.
  As soon as Harry entered the door, there was complete silence in the hall, and the next second everyone was talking at the same time. Harry, without raising his head, quickly came to our table and sat down between me and Hermione. He tried to pretend that he did not notice the stares of all those gathered at him. Many even got up from their seats to get a better look at him.
  Fortunately, Dumbledore appeared in the hall just a few seconds later. Everyone took their seats, and the conversations died down.
  "So, another year is over!" Dumbledore exclaimed happily. "But before we begin our fantastic feast, I'll bother you a bit with senile grumbling and empty chatter. So, a great school year is behind us! I hope your heads are a little heavier than they were at the beginning of the year. However, you have the whole summer ahead of you in order to get your heads in order and completely empty them before the start of the next semester."
  Dumbledore looked around at everyone present with his radiant eyes.
  "And now, as I understand it, we have to determine who won the competition between the faculties. Let's start from the end. The fourth place was taken by the Gryffindor faculty - three hundred and twelve points. The third is Halfpuff, they have three hundred and fifty-two points. Ravenclaw is in second place, with four hundred and twenty-six points. And on the first Slytherin - four hundred and seventy-two points."
  The table where the Slytherins were sitting exploded with loud cheers and applause. I saw Malfoy triumphantly banging a golden goblet on the table.
  "Yes, yes, you did a great job," Dumbledore said, addressing the Slytherin table. "However, we did not take into account the latest events" the hall fell silent, and the smiles at Malfoy's table were no longer so joyful.
  Dumbledore chuckled loudly.
  "So," he continued. "Due to the fact that in the light of recent events, some students have earned some points... Wait, wait... yeah..."
  Dumbledore thought about it, or pretended to think about it.
  "Let's start with Mr. Ronald Weasley..."
  I turned purple.
  "...For the best chess game in the history of Hogwarts, I award the Gryffindor house fifty points."
  The screams that rose from the table where I was sitting probably reached the enchanted ceiling. At least the stars on the ceiling began to tremble. I could clearly hear Percy shouting non-stop to the other prefects.:
  "This is my brother! My little brother! He won McGonagall's enchanted chess game!"
  Finally, there was silence again.
  "Further... Miss Hermione Granger" Said Dumbledore. "For the ability to use cold logic in the face of flames, I award the Gryffindor house fifty points."
  Hermione covered her face with her hands.
  Did she cry? Something unimaginable was happening at our table - in one minute the faculty earned a hundred points.
  "And finally, Mr. Harry Potter" Dumbledore announced, and there was absolute silence in the hall. "For iron self-control and fantastic bravery, I award the Gryffindor house sixty points."
  The noise was deafening. Everyone who could count and yell hoarsely at the same time had already realized that Gryffindor now had four hundred and seventy-two points. That is, the same amount as Slytherin. We almost won the competition between the faculties. If only Dumbledore had given Harry another point...
  Dumbledore raised his hand. The hall began to quiet down.
  "Bravery can be different." Dumbledore was still smiling. "You have to be brave enough to stand up to the enemy. But it takes no less courage to stand up to your friends! And for that, I award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."
  If someone had been standing outside the doors of the Great Hall, they would have thought that an explosion had occurred here, so violently did the headmaster react to the words at the Gryffindor table. Harry, Hermione, and I jumped up and applauded Neville, cheering him on. And Neville, all white with amazement, disappeared under the students who rushed to hug him. Before that, he had only earned points in Herbology when Hermione refused to answer the teachers' questions. He's too insecure. Besides, Hermione always answers first in herbology.
  Harry, still applauding, poked me in the ribs and nodded at Malfoy. He looked so confused and scared, as if Hermione had cast a spell on him that had completely paralyzed his body.
  "So," Dumbledore shouted loudly, trying to drown out the applause, which was only intensified by the fact that the Ravenclaw and Halfpuff houses were also cheering over Slytherin's defeat. "So we need to change the scenery."
  He clapped his hands, and the green and silver banner hanging from the wall turned scarlet and gold, and the huge snake disappeared, and the giant lion of Gryffindor appeared instead. Snape extended his hand to Professor McGonagall and began shaking it with a forced smile.
  We started celebrating the victory and the end of the school year. Kidney pudding come to me. And a chicken. And potatoes. Damn, Harry had given himself very little again. I handed him a chicken leg. Let him eat. The next day, we were informed of the exam results.
  Harry and I got good grades, and Hermione, of course, became the best student. Even Neville managed to pass the exams somehow: His good grade for herbology made up for his incredibly poor grade for potions. Harry and I hoped that Goyle - who was as dumb as he was mean - would be expelled. But he also somehow managed to pass the exams. It was a shame, but as I rightly pointed out, you can't get everything at once.
  Just a few minutes after the announcement of the exam results, all the cupboards were empty, the suitcases were packed, and Neville's toad was caught trying to escape through a hole in the toilet wall. All students were given warnings that they should not resort to magic during the holidays. Of course, you can do magic in our house, but mom is against the use of magic by children.
  "And I was hoping that they would forget to give us these pieces of paper at least once." Fred remarked sadly.
  We boarded a horseless carriage and drove to Hogsmeade. The students boarded the train, chatting and laughing. Outside, the wilderness gave way to manicured fields and neat houses. We ate candy together as we drove past Muggle towns, and then we took off our robes and put on jackets. Finally, the train pulled up to platform nine and three quarters of King's Cross station.
  It took us a long time to leave the platform. A wise old caretaker stood in front of the exit, releasing the children in twos and threes so that they would not attract the attention of Muggles.
  If a crowd of schoolchildren with huge suitcases suddenly appeared out of a solid wall, the Muggles would definitely be alarmed.
  "You should come and stay with us this summer," I said as we stood in line. "And you, Hermione, too. I'll send you an owl."
  "Thank you," said Harry gratefully. "I am glad that something pleasant awaits me this summer."
  We were returning to the Muggle world in a terrible commotion and crush.
  "Bye, Harry!" There were several voices.
  "See you later, Potter!" A few more people shouted
  "You're still famous and popular." I grinned at him.
  "But not where I'm going, that's for sure," Harry assured me.
  He, Hermione, and I went through the wall together.
  "Here he is, Mom, look!" It was my younger sister's voice, but she wasn't pointing at me at all. "Harry Potter!" Ginny piped up. "Look, Mom! I can see him."
  "Keep it down, Ginny," her mother warned her. "No need to point fingers, it's ugly."
  Mom smiled at us.
  "Has it been a difficult year?"
  "Well, yes," Harry admitted. "Thank you so much for the sweater and sweets, Mrs. Weasley."
  "Oh, don't mention it, my dear" She replied.
  A fat man with a moustache came up to us.
  "Well, are you ready?"
  Mr. Dursley was clearly outraged by his nephew's insolence. To think of standing among ordinary people with a huge owl in a cage! Behind him, Mrs. Dursley and his cousin could be seen staring at their cousin in horror.
  "You must be Harry's relatives!" Mom exclaimed.
  "In a way," growled Uncle Vernon. "Hurry up, boy, I'm not going to wait for you all day."
  Mr. Dursley walked away, and Harry turned to Hermione and me.
  "See you later," he smiled.
  "I hope you have... That you'll have a fun vacation..." Hermione said uncertainly, clearly startled by Mr. Dursley's ungraciousness.
  "Oh, don't hesitate!" Harry exclaimed. Hermione and I were surprised to see that he was grinning broadly.
  "My relatives don't know that we're not allowed to use magic during the holidays. Which means I'm going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer..."
  "Well, goodbye or something. Good luck with your family."
  Harry went to the Dursleys' car, Hermione was picked up by her parents, and we went to our flying Ford.
  And now, a couple of hours later, we're home. Mom immediately began to set dinner on the table. Well, finally you can eat normally. Harry was the only one who gave me sweets on the train. Yes, I ate the chicken leg I captured at the feast yesterday.
  Book 2. Ron Weasley and the Chamber of Secrets.
  Part 1.
  When I got home, I wrote to Harry and Hermione several times. If Hermione sent the answers with our owl, then there were no letters from Harry. Which was very strange. Deciding to think about it later, I started doing my homework. My books were designed for five courses. All I had to do was buy a course book and a textbook on ZOTI. And I read, asking my parents about everything at the same time.
  It's Harry's birthday. I sent him a gift. Hermione was getting worried too. As it turned out, Harry doesn't answer her either. I asked my father to find out if he was okay.
  ***
  It turned out that Harry had been doing magic on vacation yesterday. It looks like something really happened. I persuaded the twins to steal our Ford and check on Harry while Dad was at work. I wrote to Hermione about it.
  We waited until our father was on another night raid and flew to Little Whining.
  "What kind of house?" Fred asks me.
  "4 Tisovaya Street, sort of."
  They searched for him in the dark for a long time. He's got bars on his window. We took a closer look. That's right, Harry's bedroom. The twins opened the door of the Ford and started knocking on the window.
  ***
  Well, he's finally awake. I was afraid we'd wake up the whole house. We've been knocking for about twenty minutes.
  ***
  "Ron!" said Harry, barely moving his lips. How pale and thin he is. Did his relatives starve him?
  Hi almost crawled to the window and staggered open it to make it easier for us to talk.
  Ron, how did you get here? What are you... And then he noticed that I was looking at him from an old turquoise-colored car that was hanging in the air near the window. Harry opened his mouth in amazement, which amused the brothers sitting in front.
  "Hello, Harry!" They exclaimed in one voice. What's happening?
  "I asked." Why haven't you answered my emails? "I've invited you to stay almost ten times. And yesterday your father came and said that you used magic in front of Muggles and got an official reprimand....
  "It's not me. And how did he know?" the friend protested.
  "He works for the Ministry of Magic," I replied. "You know it's forbidden to do magic outside the school. Harry, when was the last time you ate properly?
  "Is that what you're telling me? A week ago. My aunt starved me." Harry said expressively, looking at the hovering car.
  "Well, that doesn't count. We didn't take him for long. It's Dad's car. We didn't use any magic. It's another thing to do magic in front of the ordinary people you live with...."
  "But I told you, it's not me..." It takes a long time to explain. "Could you tell the school that the Dursleys locked me up and said they wouldn't let me into Hogwarts anymore? Never! And I can't get out of here by magic. The Ministry will then say that I have committed two illegal sorceries in a week.
  "Calm down, you'll explain everything yourself." I said. "We've come for you. You will spend the last month of the holidays with us."
  "But you don't have the right to do magic either..." the friend says perplexedly.
  "And we won't." I nodded towards the older brothers. "Don't you see who I brought with me? Buddy, I'm sorry, but all I have to eat is a ham and cheese sandwich. There is nothing else." I reached into the glove compartment of the car for the sandwich I had saved for myself.
  "Tie this rope to the grate," Fred ordered, handing Harry one end of it.
  "If the Dursleys wake up, I'm in trouble," Harry whispered as he tied a rope to one of the bars.
  "Now step aside and stop celebrating the coward. And have a sandwich for now." With that, Fred gave a good gasp, passing my sandwich out the window.
  Harry walked over to the cage. He devoured the food hungrily, nibbling off a piece of Hedwig's ham. Hedwig, as if sensing the master's anxiety, sat motionless after swallowing the ham. The car lurched forward, the engine roaring harder and harder, the grille finally gave way and the whole thing popped out of the window frame with a loud bang.
  The car soared into the sky, and Harry looked out the window. The grate was hanging about a meter and a half off the ground. Breathing heavily, I dragged her into the car. No one seems to have been woken up.
  The grille was finally safely pulled into the car, and Fred backed up as close to the window as possible.
  "Jump," I commanded.
  "What about my school stuff - a magic wand, a broom..."
  "Where are they?"
  "In the closet under the stairs." And the door of the room is locked.
  "Well, it's nothing." George answered from the front seat. Get away from the window, Harry. The brothers crept cautiously into the room. Harry, finishing his cheese, watched as George took a hairpin out of his pocket and began to pick at the lock with it. "Many wizards believe that learning such magic tricks from Muggles is an empty task," Fred said.
  "We don't think so. There's something worth learning from them. Although, of course, they can't work as fast as lightning."
  There was a sudden click in the lock, and the door swung open.
  "We'll go down to get your suitcase," George whispered, "You pack up what you need in the room and give it to Ron."
  "Careful, the last step creaks." Harry warned in a whisper.
  And the twins were swallowed up by the darkness of the stairs. Harry ran around the room, collecting things and handing them to me through the window. Harry handed the rest of the ham to Hedwig and ran around the room, collecting things and passing them to me through the window. Then he hurried downstairs to help carry the suitcase. His uncle coughed from the bedroom.
  Out of breath, they all dragged the suitcase to the door and across the room to the window. Fred dived into the car and started pulling with me, while Harry and George pushed him out of the room.
  Inch by inch, the suitcase was slowly being pulled into the car. Did he put bricks in there? There was another cough from behind the wall.
  "Let's get some more," Fred commanded. "One, two, go!"
  Harry and George leaned on their shoulders, strained, the suitcase jumped out of the window and fell into the back seat.
  "It's all right," George whispered. "Get in quickly!"
  Harry had already jumped onto the windowsill when suddenly a loud, long-drawn scream was heard behind him, which was drowned out by a thunderous male voice:
  "That damn owl again!"
  "I forgot Hedwig." Harry whispered in horror.
  He jumped off the windowsill and at the same moment a light flashed on the stairs. Harry grabbed the owl's cage, darted to the window, shoved it into George's hands, and climbed into the car. At that moment, Mr. Dursley punched the door, thinking it was locked. The door flew open, and Mr. Dursley stood for a moment in the doorway, letting out the roar of an angry bull, leapt to the window and managed to grab onto the ankle of his friend who rushed to the car.
  The brothers grabbed Harry by the arms and pulled him into the car with all their might.
  "Petunia!" Vernon thundered. "He's running away! HE'S RUNNING AWAY!"
  The brothers pulled again, and Harry's leg slipped out of Uncle Harry's hands. Harry flew into the car and slammed the door.
  "Step on the gas, Fred!" I shouted, and the car sped up at full speed, heading for the moon. Harry rolled down the window, the night air ruffling his hair. The roofs of the houses on Privet Drive were rapidly shrinking in size. Mr. and Mrs. Dursley and Dudley stared dumbfounded from the window of Harry's room.
  "See you next summer!" Harry waved them goodbye. The brothers were laughing and shouting loudly. And our friend, who was saved by us, was leaning back in his seat, smiling all over his face.
  "Let Hedwig out," he told me. "Let him fly from behind. To be locked up for so many days!"
  Locked up? They're crazy. It's an owl! Yes, it's a spirit, but it has all the habits of a real owl.
  George handed me the hairpin, and in another minute, Hedwig flew out the window, happy and gliding like a ghost through the air next to the car.
  "Well, tell me quickly," I demanded impatiently. "What happened to you?"
  Harry told us about Dobby's visit, about his warning, and described the death of Mrs. Dursley's culinary masterpiece.
  "So I run out with a stack of letters in my pocket and see my aunt's pudding floating in the air. And then the brute dropped him on the floor. And I received a warning letter from the ministry. And Uncle Vernon, when he found out that I wasn't allowed to do magic, put bars on the window the next day. So last week they locked me in my room and only gave me cold soup once a day. Yes, they took me to the toilet."
  "It's very strange," Freddy drawled.
  "That doesn't sound like it," George nodded. "And he didn't say who was plotting this atrocity?"
  "I didn't think he could say that." Harry tried to explain. "He opens his mouth and immediately starts banging his head against the wall."
  Fred and George exchanged glances.
  "Do you think he made it up?" Harry asked.
  "You see," Fred began, "Brownies can do magic, but they usually don't dare without their owners' permission. Most likely, old Dobby was sent by someone to keep you away from school. Remember, do you have an enemy at Hogwarts?"
  "Yes," Harry and I answered in one voice, without hesitation.
  "Draco Malfoy," said Harry. "He hates me."
  "Draco Malfoy?" George asked, turning around. "Lucius Malfoy's son?"
  "I think so," Harry replied. "Malfoy is a rare surname. Is it important?"
  "I heard what my father said about him" George said "he was an accomplice of You-Know-Who. One of the most important ones."
  "And when You-Know-Who disappeared" Fred continued, turning his head almost a hundred and eighty degrees, "Lucius Malfoy began to assure everyone that he was not involved in any evil deeds. But he was lying. His father says he was his closest assistant."
  "I don't know if the Malfoys have their own brownie..." Harry shrugged his shoulders.
  "Whoever Dobby's masters are, they're probably an old wizarding family, and a very rich one at that," Fred noticed.
  "Of course..." George replied. "Mom regrets that we don't have a brownie, the family is big, we have to iron so much, and magic can't help here. But she likes to cook for our crowd. And the brownie will take away all her hobbies. She won't even let us boys near the cauldron. Ginny, the future hostess of the house, says that she should eat and learn to cook, and our wife should feed us. We only have a decrepit ghoul who lives in the attic. And the gnomes have filled the whole garden. Brownies live only in old mansions and castles. They are inherited. There's no elf in our house."
  Harry flew in silence. Yes, Draco could very well have sent a devoted servant to Harry to prevent his appearance at school at any cost. Draco Malfoy is capable of that. But he really considers his friend a cousin. A stupid little cousin. That's why he clings. You've already told me straight out that you're his friend, so at least raise him as a pure-blooded wizard and not just feed him.
  "Anyway, I'm glad we came for you," I said. "You know how worried I was! "I'm writing to you, and I'm writing, and there's no response. At first I thought it was the Shooter's fault..."
  "And who is Strelka?"
  "Our postal owl, an old, old one. Flies, flies with a letter and suddenly falls on the way. She's just too old to hold her wings anymore, she's still Grandpa Galus. I asked Hermes..."
  "Who, who?"
  "Percy's owl. Mom and dad gave it to him when Percy was appointed prefect," Fred explained from the front seat.
  "But Percy didn't give it to me. He said he needed Hermes himself."
  "Percy's been acting weird this summer." George frowned. "He writes letters to someone endlessly, sits for hours locked in his room. Well, how many times can you jerk off in the room and polish the prefect's badge? You've gone too far west, Fred," he caught himself, pointing to the compass embedded in the control panel.
  Fred hurriedly turned the steering wheel to the left.
  "Does your father know that you took his car?" Harry asked.
  "N-no," I mumbled. "He's working at night tonight. I hope we can get the car in the garage before Mom wakes up. God forbid she notices that we took a Ford.
  "What does your father do at the Ministry of Magic?"
  "He works in the most boring department, "Illegal use of Muggle inventions."
  "What is the use?" "I'll explain now. For example, you have a thing that wasn't made by wizards. You bewitched her, and then she got back to them - in a house or a store. An old witch died last year, and she had a tea set. It was sold at auction to a woman in the non-magical world. She invited her friends over for a cup of tea. So what was going on there! My father spent several weeks solving the case from morning to night.
  "Can you tell me more details?"
  "I can, of course. The kettle went berserk. He spat boiling water all around him, and the sugar tongs pinched one guest's nose, and he was sent to the hospital. My father was furious. There were only two of them in the department: him and an old wizard named Perkins Warbeck. They suffered a lot back then! They even used the Oblivion spell."
  "What about your father's car?"
  "It's totally awesome!" Fred laughed.
  "It wasn't the wizards who made up so many little tricks, they drove my father nuts. We have a barn full of them! He'll bring it back, take it apart, cast a spell, and put it back together. If he had searched himself, he would have had to arrest himself. Well, if he uses these things in a non-magical world. Mom swears that the whole barn is full of junk, but he doesn't give a damn."
  "That's our highway." George said, peering through the windshield into the thinning darkness. "Ten more minutes and we'll be home. It's getting light, I think we'll be on time."
  The horizon in the east was faintly flushed. I've been feeling a sinking feeling in my stomach for a long time. Harry ate my late pancake dinner. Well, I'm not sorry. He's so skinny. Damn, his stomach is rumbling too. Even louder than mine.
  Fred began to descend. I could make out the boundaries of fields and clumps of trees below.
  "Hey gobblers, we are almost over the village of Ottery St. Catchpole," George informed me.
  The ground was rapidly approaching. The crimson edge of the sun was already shining through the treetops.
  "Let's sit down! Breakfast is coming soon, so we won't be with Mom, but we'll sit quietly in our rooms. Then we'll eat." Fred announced.
  And the car bounced slightly and touched the ground with its wheels. We landed in a tiny backyard next to a sagging garage. Initially, it was a small brick house, but then from time to time new rooms were added to it from above and from the sides, the house grew by several floors, but it looked so unstable, as if it was held together by magic alone. Five chimneys jutted haphazardly from the red-tiled roof. At the entrance, the inscription "Rabbit Hole." hung on a pole, slightly askew. On the side of the porch, next to a huge rusty saucepan, was a pile of rubber boots of various colors and sizes. Plump little birds walked around the yard and pecked at something. They've bred up again, and we'll be able to slaughter meat soon. There will be chicken soup and fried legs. Mmm. And not just the tired eggs.
  Our whole company poured out of the car.
  "It's not much" I said modestly. It definitely does not reach the full-fledged menorahs of the old magical families. Besides, we don't have a magic source. There's a ley line nearby, of course, but it's pretty weak.
  "Great!" Harry exclaimed enthusiastically.
  "Now go upstairs. Everyone go to their beds. Just very, very quiet! Otherwise, Mom will wake up and make a scene." Fred commanded. "Mom will call for breakfast at 9. Ron, you'll run downstairs and cheerfully shout, "Look, Mom, who showed up last night!" She'll be happy, and no one will notice that we took the car.
  "Okay," I agreed. "Come on, Harry," I called to my friend, who was staring at the house in fascination. "I'm on the move sl..."
  Choking, I fell silent and my face turned green: the lights were on in the windows of the "Burrow", and my mother was approaching us from the porch, scattering the chickens. A small, plump woman with the kindest face, now resembling a saber-toothed tiger.
  Fred gasped.
  "Oh, my God," George blurted out.
  Mom came up to us and stopped, putting her hands on her hips and looking from one guilty face to another. She was wearing a flowered apron with a magic wand sticking out of the pocket.
  "Well?" she demanded menacingly.
  "Good morning, Mommy" George said it in what seemed to him a cheerful, contented voice.
  "Don't you understand how worried I was?" Mom whispered furiously.
  "I'm sorry, Mom, but we had to..."
  The three of us were almost a head taller than our mother, but we were mortally afraid of her anger.
  "Empty beds! No note! The car has disappeared! They could have been in a traffic accident! I'm almost crazy with worry! You don't think about anyone but yourself! I can't remember how long I've been alive! Just wait, the father will come. The older brothers had never done anything like this, not Bill, not Charlie, not Percy...
  "...our good boy," Fred ended his mother's angry tirade. "I WISH I COULD LEARN SOMETHING FROM PERCY." Mom exclaimed, pointing her finger at Fred's chest. "You could have died, you could have been seen, your father could lose his job because of you... Well, it's unlikely about work. Although he's considered a nutcase for collecting all sorts of junk, he's the only one in the Ministry of Magic who knows anything about Muggle technology. After all, he is well versed in Muggle technology and helps the ministry with the enchantment of official vehicles.
  Mom's anger seemed to have no end. And, only hoarsely, she turned to Harry, who backed away from her in fear. I thought he was used to shouting. With such relatives, but he was also afraid of our mother.
  "Welcome, dear Harry. Come in, we'll have breakfast now." Mom smiled warmly and with these words hurried back into the house. Phew, it seems to have worked out. Harry gave me a questioning look, I nodded encouragingly, and he followed my mom.
  Our kitchen is small and quite cramped. In the middle is a scrubbed wooden table surrounded by chairs. Sometimes we sit down to eat in the garden, but for now we can fit in here. Harry sat on the edge of the nearest chair and looked around. He had never been to a wizard's house before.
  On the opposite wall was a single-hand clock, enchanted by Dad after the wedding. At that time, he wanted to become an apprentice to artefactors, but he became interested in Muggles. And the magic war was going on then, and the masters were not up to recruiting new students. Instead of numbers, there were inscriptions on the watch face: "Tea time", "Time to feed the chickens", "Lateness" and the like. On the mantelpiece are stacks of my mother's books: "Conjure yourself a cheese!", "Charms used in baking", "How to cook a feast in one second. Miraculous magic!" There was an old radio on the wall behind the sink, which started talking again. The announcer announced:
  "The Hour of the Magicians. We begin the performance of the famous singer, the fortune teller Celestina Warlock."
  "Mom loves her. And they broadcast important news of the magical world on the radio. But Muggle televisions haven't caught on. Illusions are much more spectacular, but we don't like that."
  Mom was fussing over the stove, preparing breakfast: she threw sausages into the pan and, in between, shot menacing glances at us, saying:
  "I don't know what you were thinking... I would never have believed it... I don't blame you, my boy." She assured Harry, flicking eight small sausages onto his plate. "Arthur and I were very worried about you. We decided just last night to come get you if there's no reply to Ron's last letter by Friday. But think about it: flying halfway across the country in an illegal car! Surely someone noticed! You've flown through a non-magical world. Yes, since Harry lives in the Muggle part of Britain, he had to travel through Muggle space. Well, at least the car has an invisibility and eye-avoidance system. And the night was dark.
  Mom added a three-egg glaze to the sausages. Then she touched the dirty dishes in the sink with her magic wand, and it began to wash itself, tinkling slightly. It is necessary to learn this spell by the way. Mom refuses to teach us how to cook, she says it's a wife's responsibility and there's nothing to take away her hobby.
  "It was low cloud..." Fred mumbled.
  "They don't talk while eating." Mom called my brother to order.
  "They were starving him!" George tried to distract Mom.
  "That applies to you too." the mother did not calm down. But she didn't look so threatening as she buttered Harry's bread. Yeah. My friend looks like a starving man. And given Mom's belief that a man should eat properly, a friend will be fattened. Maybe even give him some muscle-building potions. Suddenly, a distracting circumstance invaded the kitchen in the form of our sister, dressed in a long nightgown. Damn, I should have warned her. Jeanie gave a little cry and ran out of the kitchen.
  "This is Ginny, my sister." I whispered to Harry. "She's been talking about you all summer. She's going to ask for your autograph. He smiled and joked. But when he met his mother's gaze, he looked down at his plate again. No one else said a word. We were silent until the plates were empty, which happened pretty quickly.
  "Oh, how tired I am" George yawned sweetly, putting his knife and fork on his plate. "I'm going to get some sleep..."
  "No, you're not going," Granny cut him off. "You didn't sleep all night because of your own stupidity. Go to the garden, it's time to expel the dwarves. They're all over the place again."
  "But Mom..."
  "And both of you will go" She looked at Fred (he has a green badge pinned on his tank top, and George has a red one.) and me and added, turning to Harry: "And you, my boy, go upstairs and rest. You didn't ask them to follow you in that wretched car."
  "Can I go with Ron? I want to see how the dwarves are expelled. I've never seen it before." Harry hurried to say.
  "You're a very kind boy, Harry, but kicking out dwarves is a boring job. Let's see what Lockhart says about this." Mom took a heavy volume from the mantelpiece. It's starting again...
  "But we know how to expel them." George protested.
  On the cover of the book was written in beautiful gold letters: "Gilderoy Lockhart. Household pests. The Reference book". There was also a large photograph of the author: a pretty face framed by blond curls, bright blue eyes. His face was lively, and his eyes twinkled merrily, if not cheekily. The reference is good, but here is the author... I just want to punch him in his face, but Mom likes him.
  "Oh, he's beautiful!" The mother exclaimed. "And how does he know his subject - household pests. It's a wonderful book..."
  "Mom loves him." Fred whispered loudly.
  "Don't be silly." Mom said, turning pink. "Well, if you know better than Lockhart how to make a garden safer, go ahead and work. And if even one dwarf remains, take the blame on yourself.
  Yawning and grumbling, my brothers and I trudged into the garden. Harry followed us. The garden was large and neglected. There were too many weeds, the lawn was not mowed, but the stone fence was overshadowed by the gnarled, gnarled branches of old trees, flowers that mom grows for potions, and a small pond overgrown with green duckweed is full of frogs. They walked across the lawn to the flower bed.
  "Muggles have dwarves too." Harry told me.
  "Very similar to ours! I've seen them" I ducked headfirst into a bush and said. "Small, fat, Santa Claus-like, fishing rod in hand. Ours wear trousers and shirts. They're also running around the garden with shovels and picks."
  The bush twitched, there was the sound of a desperate struggle, and I straightened up, holding the dwarf aloft in one hand.
  "He's a real dwarf," I said solemnly.
  "Twist me! Spin it!" A small creature that slightly resembled a human was screaming. The dwarf was small, wearing blue trousers and a checkered shirt. With kylo in one hand. I held him at arm's length, and he squirmed, trying to kick me with a foot as hard as flint. I deftly grabbed his ankles and turned him upside down.
  "Try to do the same." I said to Harry and, holding the gnome high, began to spin it with a flourish ("Twist me!"- shouted the dwarf), like a lasso. When I saw the horror in Harry's face, I added: "It won't hurt him. Only his head will spin, and he will not be able to find his way back to his burrow."
  With these words, I let go of my ankles, the dwarf flew about five meters, and crashed somewhere behind a hedge.
  "Too close!" Fred appreciated. "I bet I can get mine to that stump over there. Harry decided to throw his first dwarf over the hedge without promotion. But the latter, sensing the weakness of the newly-minted dwarf persecutor, managed to sink his razor-sharp teeth into Harry's finger. It wasn't so easy to peel it off.
  "He was a nice dwarf," One of the brothers noticed, "He could have flown ten meters away. Soon, the air was filled with a cloud of flying dwarves."
  "Our dwarves are a bit silly." George noticed, grabbing five of them at once. "When they hear that the expulsion has begun, they come to the surface. No, to get deeper into the burrows." Soon, two dozen exiles crowded into the field, and they walked away in a long line, hunching their shoulders.
  "They'll be back," I said, watching the dwarves disappear one by one into the hedgerows at the other end of the field. They like it here. My father is so kind to them, he says they're funny."
  The whole garden was devoured by contagion. And my father is against a radical solution to the problem. The front door slammed in the house.
  "It's the father!" George exclaimed. "Returned from work."
  The dwarves were forgotten, and we ran through the garden to the house. My father was sitting wearily in the kitchen chair, taking off his glasses and squeezing his eyes shut. He was thin, with a short haircut, but his hair was also bright red. He was wearing a green robe, worn and dusty from constant travel. Dad spent the whole week running around on night raids. I had a snack at home and ran to work.
  "What a night it was," he said softly, reaching for the kettle. We sat around him. Even Harry was curious about what he had to say. "Nine challenges. Nine! Old Mundungus Fletcher tried to curse me when my back was turned..." My father took a long sip of tea and sighed.
  "Were there any interesting cases, Dad?" Fred asked curiously.
  "Just a few melting keys, plus a biting cauldron." My father replied with a yawn. There was one very unpleasant substance. "But it's not in our department. And there were also exceptionally strange ground squirrels, and Prudsmert was called in for questioning. Thank God, the gophers are under the jurisdiction of the Committee on Experimental Magic..."
  "I don't understand, who wants to waste time on melting keys?" George asked his father.
  "There are still fans of annoying Muggles," Mr. Weasley sighed. "They will sell such a key to a muggle, and the key will disappear. The Muggle is looking for him, looking for him, but the key has disappeared through the ground. And there are no guilty parties. Muggles don't report things missing, they don't want to admit that there are melting keys. They say they lost it. They'll put up with anything to ignore magic, even if it's happening right under their noses. You can't even imagine what our people conjure."
  "FOR EXAMPLE, CARS?!"
  The mother entered the kitchen, holding a long poker in her hand like a sword. The father opened his eyes wide and stared guiltily at his wife. Yeah, I forgot that she didn't know about the additional functions of the car.
  "W-what kind of cars, dear Molly?"
  "Yes, Arthur, cars." Her mother's eyes were sparkling. "Imagine a magician who bought an old wreck and told his wife that he would take it apart just to understand the device. But in fact, he uses a spell of volatility on her. And please, you can fly to the ends of the earth in this car."
  Dad blinked and launched into an explanation. You see, darling, you're about to realize that this wizard didn't break the law one bit. Although, of course... uh... it would have been better if he had told his wife the truth... There is a clause in the law... if the wizard had no intention of flying in the non-magical world, the fact that the car acquired volatility does not mean..."
  "Arthur Weasley, you wrote this law yourself, and of course you inserted this clause carefully!" Mrs. Weasley was thundering. "So that you can safely mess around in your shed with all these Muggle nonsense! mom never shared her husband's love for the technology of ordinary people. Yes, that's understandable. She's been working intermittently. To make it work, you need to enchant it specifically. And it's not a fact that something won't fail at the most inopportune moment. "So, for your information, Harry flew to us this morning in the very car that was not intended for flights! Across an entire non-magical land!"
  "Harry?" Mr. Weasley said, not understanding anything. "Which Harry?"
  He looked around the kitchen, saw my friend, and jumped in surprise.
  "Oh my God!" he exclaimed. "Why, it's Harry Potter. "Happy to see you! Ron has told us so much about you..."
  "Your sons flew this car to Little Whinging last night and brought their friend. What do you say to that?" Her mother's voice grew stronger.
  "Did you really fly there? And quite successfully?" My father asked with genuine delight. "I... I..." he broke off: fiery sparks were already flying from his mother's eyes. Of course, boys, this is very, very wrong..."
  Mom started to swell up like a big American frog. It's time to go. I tugged at my friend's shirt sleeve.
  "We have nothing else to do here." I whispered to Harry. "Come on, I'll show you my room."
  We quickly left the kitchen and walked down a narrow hallway to a lopsided staircase that ran up through the house. On the third landing, the door to the room was open. As we passed by, the door slammed shut.
  "This is Ginny," I explained. "She's so shy, and it really torments her. Actually, her door is always wide open."
  They walked down two more flights and stopped at a peeling door with a sign on it: "Roland's Room."
  I was named after a knight, and Harry was actually Harold, I asked. However, he says his aunt indicated it in the documents.
  I opened the door, and Harry and I found ourselves in a small room with a low, sloping ceiling that almost touched the top of his head. I used to hook the ceiling with my head in low places where the roof went downhill. Everything in the room was ablaze with shades of bright orange: the bedspread, the walls, even the ceiling. Every inch of the old wallpaper was covered with posters depicting the same seven witches and wizards in bright orange cloaks, holding a broom in one hand, waving greetings with the other. How much time did Bill and Charlie take for that... I wish they had bought me a new wand. Even though I asked for a new one at the beginning of the summer, I was told that I would have to suffer for a year or two because of Gini.
  "What is your favorite team?" Harry asked.
  "Peddle guns," I replied, waving my hand at the orange bedspread, which was decorated with two huge black letters "P" and a flying cannonball. "Ninth place in the League."
  School textbooks lay in uneven piles in the corner of the room, next to comics, almost the entire series "Patrick Piggs, the Crazy Muggle." On the windowsill is a sun-drenched aquarium full of frog eggs, with a magic wand on it. Charlie asked to breed some magical frogs. They say they are very tasty. Nearby, a fat gray rat is dozing in the sun.
  Harry stepped over a self-shuffling deck of cards and looked out the small window. He turned to me, and I froze nervously, waiting for the verdict.
  "It's a little small, of course," I said. "Not like your room at the Dursleys. And definitely under the nook of a ghoul. He's up there in the attic, howling and banging on the pipes."
  "I think it's the most beautiful house in the world." Harry said happily, smiling all over his face.
  I felt my ears turn pink.
  "Make yourself comfortable, I'll go get a cot now."
  "Where to?"
  "Into the basement. We have a warehouse there and Mamina's potion factory."
  "All kinds of healing and strengthening potions. Mind you, she'll feed them to you. You're so skinny."
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