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Ron-Weasly book 1. V2

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  • Аннотация:
    Finally, I, the pure-blooded wizard Ron Weasley, enter the Hogwarts wizarding school. My best friend Harry and my friend Hermione had a lot of exciting adventures back then. (Revised version with inserts of new text about Ron and interludes on behalf of Harry.)


   A children's fanfiction series about the adventures of Harry and Ron with their friend Hermione in 8 books. Added new scenes with Ron and interludes with Harry. All rights to the characters and the magical world belong to Rowling. When writing the work, books from 1 to 5 and the beginning of 6 were taken into account. Films were not taken into account at all, as was the cursed child.

Ron Weasley and the Philosopher's Stone

Ron Weasley - book 1.

Chapter 1 About the Weasley family and the chickens.

   Nora's Kitchen November 1, 1981
   The fox hole. another terrible morning in a country gripped by civil war. Molly Pruitt's ex is a typical housewife. She got married at school, to Arthur Weasley, and is already raising six children. Recently, in another skirmish with death eaters, she lost two brothers. At least the younger one is not involved in this war, no one in the magical world knows about him except his father, after all. Molly is due to give birth to her seventh child soon. The healer said it would be a girl this time. Well, finally. Although the problem is with birth control charms, for some reason they don't always work for Arthur. And Molly kept wanting to have a baby girl, so she didn't have an abortion. Although Arthur suggested making an amulet in the form of a ring with protection against sudden flight.
   Her husband works for the Ministry of Magic in the department of protection of Muggles from magic. And with his laws, he crossed the path of many pure-blooded families. Along with his eldest son, he participates in the Dumbledore 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 wizard families. Especially after the deaths of Molly's older brothers. Bill is going to go to Egypt to work with goblins. Charlie is in his fifth year at Hogwarts High School and is about to leave for Romania to visit the Dragon Reserve. They are ready to accept him from the owls, even without a TOAD. Although my mother is against working with dragons. But it's far from Britain, so she nevertheless agreed with a creaking heart. And the dragon sanctuary has its own magical laws, and Charlie will be under the protection of his elders in the guild until he becomes a dragonologist.
   ***
   Evening. Nora's kitchen. Molly is standing by the stove, cooking another chicken noodle soup, 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." her tired husband answers her. Eight challenges across the country...
   "Oh, Arthur." Molly burst into Tears. "And little 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. All magicians celebrate the fall of the dark Lord and his knights. They don't give a damn what Muggles say."
   "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. She sat down heavily on a chair."
   "Arthur, how come? Wasn't James like a brother to him?!"
   "I don't know Molly, but the Aurors say he killed Peter and twelve Muggles before he was arrested. They'll put him in Azkaban under a simplified procedure, so Harry will be given to his relatives. Maybe the Potters who went to America will take him away. He's their nephew. Although Charles was against James marrying Lily. Dorea especially didn't like her. Supposedly a Muggle-born and the wife of a fifteenth-generation pureblood magician. And James kept saying that the blood was stagnant and it was time to dilute it. Necromancers are born in the family again instead of artefactors. James was born a necromancer himself, although he dreamed of making artifacts. Even the ancestral artifact of Perevel recognized him.
   ***
   Nine years later.
   Some kind of infection passed some of the chickens at night. I came to collect the eggs, and there the whole coop is covered in feathers and blood. I would have thought of foxes, but protection from them is still worthwhile. That's what Mom said. Dad later said that he was making an amulet from foxes, and cursing, he grumbled that it was clearly someone magical.
   It was most likely a moon fox, judging by the tracks at the coop. And the smell is more grassy, rather than the kind left by ordinary foxes. Mom treated the coop for diseases brought by the fox and, swearing, complained that there would definitely be no eggs for the next two months - the laying hens were very scared. They just need to be slaughtered, although mom said she would buy new ones, and these should just be given time and vitamin potions to recover.
   I was shocked at first, because moon foxes live in the foothills and do not come to our hilly plains. It is written about this in the tales of foxes. But I guess she's the only one who's stopped by for free chicken. I asked Percy for a textbook on UZMS and found the Moon Foxes.
   Yeah, migration means once in a century. I told Dad that one of the moon foxes might have migrated closer to us from the foothills, on their way to the Alshen Mountains. The old trail passed through us earlier.
   We decided to set up an ambush at night, putting an improved protective net on the coop, with antimagic runes in some places behind the common shield. They work well against moon foxes, but kitsune will easily bypass them. But we need to figure out who's messing with us. Kitsune is fine, she came, played with the chickens and left, but ordinary foxes, although magical, will come and devour us all in the coop, you can't even buy new chickens while the fox is hunting.
   And then it got dark. A silver-white fox ran out of the forest, with slightly glowing fur in the dark. She approaches the new barrier, calmly touched it with her paw and went inside, but when she ran into a grid with runes, she stopped. The fur has tarnished. The fox barks angrily and turns around and leaves.
   The next morning, Mom decides to buy new chickens. And the old chickens that survived should be quarantined.
   ***
   A month later
   I froze on the threshold of the coop, looking at the bustling yellow chickens. Unfortunately, our laying hens have stopped laying, and the quarantine has not yet passed.
   "Mom..." I turned to my mom, who was putting food in the trough. "All the broilers are there. Didn't you say you'd order some laying hens from the Ebots?"
   Molly sighed, straightened up, and wiped her hands on her apron.
   "That's what I wanted, Ron. Truth. But after the magic fox scared our chickens, they stopped laying altogether. They also fought among themselves. Lex the vet said they needed rest and vitamins for at least a month. And we need to eat something. The Weasley boys can't live without a chicken, I noticed that a long time ago. Our family has a craving for chicken, like ordinary foxes."
   Mom squatted down next to the chickens scurrying around the trough. The young roosters opened their wings in a funny way and covered the food from each other.
   "Besides, you know Dad.... He spent half his salary on his Ford Anglia again. He says he took out a loan to buy a car and it needs to be paid off. Bill and Charlie are trying to help us, but they're saving up for housing. I had to look for a cheaper place."
   I frowned, but not so angry anymore.
   "And you decided to shop at the Neil chicken farm?"
   "Well, Ronnie, we'll buy from the Ebots later," Mom smiled. "They are not at all expensive to take from them a large increase in broiler chickens this month. He said these broilers grow fast and eat little. We will raise them, there will be meat for the whole family. And then, when things get better, we'll buy more laying hens from the Ebots, if ours don't lay, bigger and better ones. In the meantime, you can buy beef on diagon Alley from farmers from the foothills."
   I looked at the big yellow chickens that were poking their beaks into my shoes. My stomach made a soft rumble, and I blushed. Well, I love the chicken coop.
   "Well," I drawled, trying to look serious, "I'm upset about the eggs, of course. But... I licked my lips, "fried chicken is not bad either. And Ginny makes great chicken soup. Mom, can you go past the beef and buy some pork for Fred and George and me?"
   Molly laughed and ruffled my hair.
   "You like smoked beef, my practical boy."
   "Mom, I love pork, how many times do I have to tell you. Can I take care of our laying hens?"
   "Oh, I forgot again, you look so much like Bill, Roni. Come on, I'll show you where we have vitamins for our laying hens. And at the same time, we'll figure out how to strengthen the coop so that the foxes don't get in anymore, otherwise Ali complained that we have a pack of magical foxes nearby."
   "Yoo Hana complained last week that their chicken coop was almost ruined.
   I nodded, already smiling:
   "Of course, I will help. Maybe we should try to put up a magical defense? I was just reading about the fox scaring runes...."
   Molly winked at him:
   "Now that's a deal! My resourceful son. Let's go prepare a rescue plan for our chickens."
  

Interlude 1 Harry learns to cook.

   The kitchen of the Dursleys' house on Privet Drive, early summer morning. Petunia stands at the stove, stirring oatmeal in milk. The favorite delicacy of an unloved nephew. Ten-year-old Harry is standing nearby, diligently cutting bread for toast. Dudley is still asleep, he only came back in the evening yesterday, after walking with friends. So he sleeps it off, and then goes for a walk again. And Harry gets up early in the morning with his aunt.
   Petunia glances at her nephew, stirring the porridge, and says sternly, but not maliciously:
   "Cut the bread more evenly, Harry. Toasts should be the same thickness, otherwise they will roast unevenly. And don't press the knife so hard against the board - you'll only get tired faster that way. Keep it steady, but easy."
   Almost all of my aunt's attention is occupied with porridge, she also likes to eat it for breakfast. But Dudley, like her husband, prefers scrambled eggs and bacon. Although my aunt sometimes makes them omelets. Harry nods, trying to follow his aunt's movements. He learned to cook from the age of eight. His fingers are already deft, but he keeps a close eye on Aunt Petunia's hands. She promised that if he cooked well, she and Uncle Vernon would pay for him to attend a prestigious culinary college. Aunt Petunia told me that she learned to cook there herself, and then worked as a chef in a restaurant until Dudley was born.
   Harry watches as his aunt stirs the porridge.
   "Why doesn't the oatmeal stick to this pan? Mrs. Figg's always burns. We cooked together several times. She constantly grumbles that it's because she's not a magician. And she talks incessantly about the cats that used to live with her. Aunt Petunia, are you a witch?"
   Petunia smiles a little.
   "Because I stir it in time and keep the heat on medium. And I chose a saucepan with a thick bottom. Magic has nothing to do with it, Harry, it's just an experience. And don't you dare say something like that in front of Vernon, or he'll lock you in the closet again. You know how nervous he is about everything.
   Ten minutes later, the porridge is almost ready.
   "You will set the table. Dudley will be awake soon, and Vernon will be down in twenty minutes. Everything should be ready."
   Harry nods and begins to arrange the plates, cups, and spoons. He already knows that Uncle Vernon drinks tea with two lumps of sugar, aunt - without sugar, and Dudley - with three spoons and milk. And don't forget a cup of tea.
   Harry timidly asks
   "Aunt, can I make an omelet with sausage or scrambled eggs with bacon for Uncle Vernon today?"
   Petunia thinks about it, then nods to herself.
   "Harry's scrambled eggs, take the sliced bacon out of the fridge."
   They cook together. Petunia puts her favorite porridge on deep plates for Harry and herself, and the kid roasts bacon first, and then pours eggs into the pan.
   Petunia puts porridge on plates and grumbles:
   "Not bad. Your bacon is not too dry this time. It will be even better next time."
   Harry smiles, which is almost a compliment.
   "Today we will learn how to cook chicken soup with egg noodles."
   "Aunt Petunia, will you teach me how to cook your signature meat pie? Well, the one you make for the holidays."
   The boy asks timidly.
   "Later, Harry. For now, let's learn how to cook simpler dishes properly."
   ***
   Six months later, Petunia decided to teach Harry how to cook her signature meat pie. Six months later, Petunia decided to teach Harry how to cook her signature meat pie.
   The woman washes her hands and takes out fresh chilled pork meat from the refrigerator.
   "First we'll make minced meat. Put the meat through a meat grinder, but not too finely. We need a texture."
   Harry cuts the meat into pieces and turns the handle of the meat grinder, trying to take his time. Young Harry is interested in everything, he really wants to repeat his aunt's pie.
   "Why add onions and garlic to the meat? They will be felt." Harry wipes his tears with a napkin. Petunia, calms the kid down. She puts aside the peeled and finely chopped onion.
   "They will, but not abruptly. They give a depth of taste. And don't forget to chop the garlic finely - large pieces will spoil the whole impression."
   She shows you how to knead the dough, how to roll it out smoothly, and how to lay out the meat filling. Harry watches carefully, memorizing the movements.
   "Now make incisions on top of the dough - shallow so that steam escapes. And brush with egg for a ruddy crust."
   Harry breaks an egg to get the yolk and smears the top of the pie with a brush.
   When the pie goes into the oven, Petunia says something like praise for the first time:
   "You're doing great. You're attentive to details. This is important in cooking. You'll enjoy college, just like I did at the time."
   Harry smiles. For him, these words mean more than any reward. Later, at Hogwarts, these skills helped Harry out more than once:
  -- He could make a simple breakfast in the common room by the fireplace while the rest of the students were still asleep and Ron was out jogging;
  -- I've shared food with Ron more than once, who sometimes forgot to eat because he was so engrossed in playing magic chess with set pieces in magical autonomy mode; The game sometimes dragged on, but dinner had already passed. And Hermione used to stay up late reading.
  -- In difficult times, he knew how to keep his strength up with simple but satisfying food.
   One day, when Harry and Ron were sitting by the fireplace and eating a meat pie made by Harry, Ron said admiringly:
   "Listen, you're a good cook. Where did you learn?"
   Harry, smiling, replied
   "Aunt Petunia taught me. She said that everyone should be able to take care of themselves. She even persuaded Uncle Vernon to pay for culinary college for me after graduation."
   Hermione is trying a piece of Harry's pie in the kitchen on a cloudy November day.
   "Really? I thought they... well... didn't treat you very well."
   Harry shrugs his shoulders:
   "They wanted me to grow up, as my aunt puts it, normal. And then I got a job, instead of sitting on their neck. Besides, my aunt likes to teach me how to cook. She's bored at home.
   Ron takes another bite of the pie, licks his lips, and nods approvingly:
   "Well, special thanks to her for that. Delicious! My mom doesn't let me cook at all. He says: girls should cook, and boys should provide for the family. And if the family is rich, house elves do everything around the house. Like Grandfather Ignotus and Grandmother Lucrezia. And the girls are learning how to arrange receptions."
   Harry laughs, feeling his chest warm - not only from the food, but also from the realization that these lessons have become part of his strength.

Chapter 2 a little bit about Ron.

   Almost ten years have passed since the morning the Dark Lord was defeated. Nora 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? Although mom says that this is an old resident of this house and he is already two hundred years old. It's a pity to turn him out on the street. They have an agreement with the Weasleys. They say he protects the Burrow, and they feed him. Meat with blood. Mom says he likes pork. She should have fed us pork too, otherwise she keeps giving me beef. No, Percy and Bill love her, but why is she trying to put her in me? Well, yes, I look like Bill, so what? I like pork and chicken. But the older brothers on smoked beef are just trudging along. Bill generally chews it without sauces, they say it tastes better this way.
   I have five older brothers and a younger sister. Bill Sr., he's about thirty years old, works at Gringotts Bank. Charlie is about twenty-five years old and lives in a Romanian dragon sanctuary. The twins Fred and George are already in their second year at Hogwarts and wear colorful badges at home. We can't tell them apart at all without them. Even Mom. They are so similar and they have a mental connection with each other. And Percy. He is already in his fifth year of school and is taking the OWL this year. And of course my little sister Ginny. A friend of Luna Lovegood, who lives next door to us. Their tower stands on the banks of the Rattlesnake River. And Luna often goes there with Ginny to catch plumes. And I go there for brook trout. By the way, Luna went a little crazy, just like her father after the death of his mother. But the girl is funny if you get used to her eccentricity.
   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. And then there's Dad, with his fascination with Muggle things. Even though he buys them from antiques dealers, he still spends half of his salary on this stuff. At least the loan for our Ford has finally been paid. Unfortunately, since I'm the sixth son in the family, I usually don't get anything new. I'm going to school this year, and almost everything will be the same for me. Well, except for the gifts from Grandma Lucrezia and Aunt Muriel. Percy gave me his little rat, because Mom, overjoyed that he had become a prefect, finally bought him an OWL. My brother was so happy that I wanted one myself. But three owls in the family is too much, and the parents don't have the money for another owl. In the end, Percy just shoved his pet at me, asshole.
   And I even have a used wand. The unicorn's fur sticks out from the tip. Well, at least it's okay. And all the father with his car. I put almost my entire salary into it for the year when I bought and repaired it. Okay, the older brothers are sending us some money. But they are saving up for housing in Egypt and Romania. After all, they need to start a family themselves. Especially Bill. Mom has already started looking for a bride for him. But it all comes down to the fact that we are purebloods, and Bill is the eldest son in the family. And he needs at least a fifth-generation pureblood bride. Just like Percy in the future. His grandfather Ignotus Pruitt decided to take him to his house as an heir. Bill and Charlie didn't suit him. Bill is already inheriting the Weasley house, and Charlie is just a funny jerk. And the grandfather, having burned himself on his children Fabian and Hedion, the merry twins, does not want to take Charlie. Well, Charlie is fine as it is, he is gradually awakening the dragon heritage of the founder of the Weasley family. He has already looked for a Romanian bride. The girl's name is Florya. But her parents want him to have his own house set up. So he's saving up for it.
   Percy asked me to keep an eye on his pet, even though I don't really need a rat. I wonder what kind of rat he has - the second, the third? He says that this rat has been living with him for ten years, but somehow I don't believe it. He picked it up in our garden. I had a rat myself, and it only lived like this for three years, and after crying about it, I decided not to take any more rats. And here's Percy with his pet. Okay, I'm already used to it. At least there will be someone to practice on. The ratman is already used to magic. The twins generally like to feed him something interesting or repaint it in green or blue. But I want the rat to be bright yellow. We need to ask them how they repainted it so that it was green for two months like last winter when they came on vacation.
   Our garden is neglected, but berry bushes and fruit trees are still bearing fruit. Mom even waters them with some pest control potions and better fruiting. Even our dwarves and hares from the surrounding forest don't go near them. But they ruined the whole vegetable garden for us. Mom waters her plants with something from the gnomes, but apparently the toad is strangling her on potatoes and carrots. Well, okay, farmers don't sell delicious vegetables at all expensively.
   We have a lot of chickens, but we don't keep cattle. Meat from our neighboring farmers is quite cheap, as is milk. I love the milkshakes that Hannah taught me how to make from berry juice and chilled milk. Periodically, mom buys chickens from neighboring farmers for the brood of our laying hens and broilers. And then in four months we will have chicken legs and breasts. And I love boiled paws. Especially the rooster soup.
   I spent most of my childhood playing chess with Aunt Muriel and Grandmother Lucrezia. Sometimes, though, the brothers let them ride their brooms, but not so often. They say it's not enough for them. Charlie left me his old hundredth comet, but it was so slow that the birds overtook me. We live near the magical settlement of Ottery St. Ketchpole, not far from the transition from the magical to the Muggle world. Auntie Muriel lives in one of the mansions of this settlement, and Grandma Lucretia lives with Grandfather Ignotus.
   Having read the adventures of the guild of golem-controlling 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. He'll be upset. Charlie tells me when he received an invitation to the dragon Reserve to work after handing over the owls, there was such a scandal at home. Uh. And about Bill's job, Mom grumbles that it's dangerous. My brothers come home on vacation, and my mother constantly fights with them about their work. They say it's safer to work for the Ministry of Magic as a father. Charlie is already an established specialist, so if he really wants to work with animals, let him go to the Department of animal welfare and magical creatures. Where magozoologists work. They'll tear off a specialist who knows how to work with dragons with his hands, even though there is no dragon sanctuary in Britain - the path of the Welsh green dragons runs through us when they fly to lay eggs in the mountains.
   With our average life span of up to 200 years, and some people manage to live for three hundred years, spending 7 years first studying at school, and then as a guild student or intern for another 10-20 years is quite common. Bill just became a full-fledged member of the guild of curse breakers at the bank about two years ago. He says his salary immediately jumped three times. He offered to send his mother half of his salary for groceries, as before, but she takes only a quarter of what she sent, and sets aside the rest of the money for his wedding.
   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. Ginny was just reading fairy tales about the rise and fall of the Dark Lord and his death Knights. She constantly carries a doll with green eyes and fantasizes about what kind of children she and Harry will have. Horror. Of course, I've read all these books about you-know-who and the civil war in Great Britain, and my mother always told stories about those times, but I don't want to be so fanatical about a boy my age. But I would have made friends with him anyway, yes. I'm going to check on the chickens Mom ordered. The laying hens, which were frightened by the moon fox, had to be slaughtered for meat, they did not lay any more.
   I stood by the chicken coop, watching ten fluffy lumps busily shoveling sawdust. They had already grown up since they were brought from the Ebots, but they were still far from laying hens.
   "Well, kids," I said softly, squatting down. I'm leaving for school soon. And when I come back in the summer... I winked at them, "you're going to rush, aren't you?" I've already mentally prepared some eggs for myself. A whole mountain!
   One chicken raised its head, looked at me with a black eye and squeaked something.
   "That's settled," I smiled.
   Molly came up behind him and put her hand on his shoulder:
   "They're going to grow up, Ron. Leah said that in three months they will already start rushing. By the time you get back, the eggs will be stable."
   "For half a year," I sighed heavily, I really want scrambled eggs with bacon or an omelet. Mom makes a great sausage omelet. "It's been forever. I hope the brownies cook delicious eggs at the magic school."
   "But what a joy you will have next summer" Molly patted my disheveled hair. "Your own, homemade eggs. No more broilers from Quint's farm, the chickens don't eat much, but I believed him."
   "Mom, let's buy four more chickens from him for meat. Their paws were very tasty."
   "All right, my prudent boy. Now I'll finish feeding the chickens and let's go brew a new potion and cut the ingredients again."
   I looked at the chickens once more, waved my hand at them and went into the house to prepare the tools for the potion and put the cauldron on a stand. I felt warm in my chest: school and adventures were ahead, and my mother and ten future laying hens were waiting for me at home. And scrambled eggs. Necessarily. And pork ham, with bread.
   ***
   A typical summer day, closer to the middle of July. I'm sitting in my room, thinking over another strategy for playing magic chess. There are usually a set of sixteen pieces of each color playing there, but there are about fifty more programmable golems for the expanded field in the box.
   Aunt Muriel, whom I visited last week (we played several games again, I lost only three out of five, progress) recently showed how to transform the playing field into a forest with a river, we need to try. At the same time, I train in controlling tiny golems on it, my aunt promised, as soon as I learn how to stably manage the set, she will give me five enchanted real golems in the sixth or seventh year of the course.
   Although I can't enchant them myself, I can make them execute commands, as well as activate the game program for the black set. I transform them into warriors and magicians, and sometimes I play with them like little soldiers. The chessboard also transforms into a forest or a field or a coast. And the number of cells is adjustable from a regular chessboard to two or three hundred cells per side, depending on the complexity of the charms in the set. Aunt Muriel is a complete grouch, of course, but she loves magic chess on an extended board. She says she was a member of the guild I'm going to when I was young, and if I train well in the game, she'll put in a good word for me in front of the masters. So she got me addicted to chess, too. She also bought me a magic set. They say you want to learn how to control golems, so train on such a small thing in a safe environment. All the apprentices in the Welsh Golems Guild start their chess training.
   I hear the rustle of wings. Is that Erol? He went hunting in the morning, as he overslept after a late-night package to his father from his friend. Hmm, some strange owl is flying. And into my window. I opened the doors. We have a charm in our rooms to maintain a comfortable temperature, but the windows must be closed for this.
   I untie the letter written in green ink from my paw.
   "Ron Weasley. Ottery St. Catchpole. The Fox Hole. the bedroom is under the attic."
   And the Hogwarts coat of arms on the seal. Hooray, I'm still going to Hogwarts and not to the Welsh school of magic! Holding out my hand with the letter up, I start dancing and yelling.
   "Mom, Mom, I got an owl from Hogwarts!"
   "Read it quickly, my boy." I hear her voice from the kitchen.
   I open the envelope and take out a sheet of parchment on which it is written in emerald green ink:
   "HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
   Headmaster: Albus Percival Brian Ulfric Dumbledore - They say the director prefers his first name.
   (Knight of the Order of Merlin, First class, - for defeating the necromancer from Durmstrang, Herr Grindelwald.
   The Great Wizard, the Supreme Wizard, the 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. Your grandfather Ignotus Pruitt paid for all seven courses at our school. Please read the list of necessary books and items attached to this letter.
   Classes start on September 1st. We are waiting for your owl with consent no later than July 31. Otherwise, you will be transferred to the school of the Guild of Welsh Magicians.
   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. Although it's already noon, so no one is sleeping.
   "Mom, Grandpa Pruitt still paid for my education for seven years. So our owl is welcome at school."
   "I know, honey. I'll send it now. You should write that you're taking Percy the rat as a familiar. Are you taking it? I'll have to thank my father for the money contribution, we just wouldn't have enough money for such a prestigious school this year."
   "Yes, I understand Mom, Dad's car and Ginny's schooling. A golem guild school would be fine with me."
   "Hogwarts is much more prestigious, son, and I still don't understand your desire to walk through the anomalies of the magical world. It's very dangerous."
   "I'll take Percy the rat, Mom, I liked him, even though he sleeps most of the time. And when will we buy things?"
   "Tomorrow we'll go to Diagon Alley."
   Mom wrote a reply and sent it with Erol back. And also about Percy the rat. As it turned out, it was a magical ratman who really lived in our family for ten years. Although Percy didn't bind him to himself. Although he tried, the binding didn't work. Apparently someone's lost familiar. Percy says his dad gave it to him just by picking it up on diagon alley at the menagerie. I thought at first that someone's rat was enchanted, but the checks showed nothing. He even asked at the menagerie if anyone had lost a pet, but no one confessed.
   Hooray, hooray. I'm finally going to the most prestigious magic school in Europe. Durmstrang is a school of dark magicians, they very often produce the same necromancers. And Babaton is a school for girls. Maybe I can even get to know Harry Potter himself? He's supposed to go to school this year, too. I hope he gets into Gryffindor like me.

Chapter 3 Shopping trip.

  

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Кожевенное мастерство | Сайт "Художники" | Доска об'явлений "Книги"