6 Chapter 6. Conflict.

I didn't take Davis anywhere, but to the Help-out room. Where it was, I knew not only from the canon. A good knowledge of the castle from the memory of many ancestors helped here. I didn't have to wander around the castle to find a picture of trolls in ballet tutus. After passing the wall with the tapestry and making a wish for the desired room, he waited for the door to appear.

The training room we found ourselves in, after going to the Help-out room, made an impression on Davis. He kept walking around and admiring the ancient magic. Of course, he realized that we were in the "Room at Will". Davis was interested in seeing every training dummy and every exercise machine. I also had my own interest.

In one of the fanficts I read that "Room at will" can create a training golem with a variable level of difficulty. I had never seen anything like it in my ancestral memory, but I was hoping for an incredible level of magic from the founders of the school. Unfortunately, I didn't find any training golem.

"It's an Optional Room," Davis said. — I've heard a lot of rumors about it, but I wasn't sure it existed. I mean, I wasn't entirely sure.

"We're way ahead of the enchantment program, but it's only in the peaceful direction with a focus on enchantment items," I told Roger. — It would be nice to train in the combat use of magic.

"You don't seem happy," Davis said, noting my worsening mood.

"Nothing like that," I said, " but I've already heard and read a lot of legends about the Rescue Room. In one such legend, it was said that the Help Room could create a training golem with a variable level of difficulty. By training with this magical construct, you can become a fighter of the highest class, like Godric Gryffindor. But, as you can see, there is no golem here, so you will have to train like everyone else.

"Ah-ha-ha," Davis laughed, " what level of enchantment is that supposed to be?" This is simply impossible!

"I wouldn't say that categorically," I said mildly, disagreeing with Davis's words. And his laughter was very unpleasant. "Some legends have claimed that the chamber of secrets creates solid illusions that can be controlled by Hogwarts Castle itself," I explained. — In favor of illusions says that nothing can be taken out of it. Many people tried to take out the books created by the room, but the books simply disappeared as soon as they left the door. We, by the way, will also try to take out something, and check whether the room can create books from the forbidden section, and in favor of the possibility of the intelligence of Hogwarts and the creation of golem control, the distributing hat says. If the hat was made relatively reasonable, then Hogwarts could be made reasonable.

I sighed.

"Hmm," Davis said, " I thought it was a complete nonsense until you explained it, but now I'd believe it myself if someone told me something like that."

I didn't like the narrowness of Davis's imagination.

That day we did a little work out, casting a variety of spells from the combat or conditionally combat magic. Worked "stupefy", and is quite difficult for freshmen "expeliarmus", tried the "incarcera", and this was limited. Later, we constantly returned to the "Room at Will" to get a little crazy, to get into the spell dummies — this practice was useful. The room could create books from the forbidden section, but I suspect that not all of them: some of them had protection or simply did not have enough access level. I realized this when I saw the blank pages in many books. And the ones with the text were surprising — how did they get into the forbidden section?

Davis and I have incorporated the Help-out Room training into our individual program. Not to say that it was a great help in making us battle mages, but it allowed us to let off steam. You can't become a combat mage by training according to the tutorial, just like you can't become a combat mage only by training. To become a real battle mage, you need real practice. I might have had access to my memory, and I might have experienced most of my memories in the first person, but that couldn't completely replace the actual combat experience. But for schoolchildren and for the first year, our exercises were quite enough.

I also realized that I am best at spells that bring destruction. This was particularly noticeable on the background of weak expeliarmus and incarcera when I was given a strong bombard. I'm afraid that with the talent for destruction, a brilliant artefaction I did not become. Destruction is often antitalent to create. On the other hand, I can reach the apprentice level even with my anti-talent and very quickly.

I could only determine my exact talents by indirect signs. In the memory of my ancestors, I saw many rituals to determine the predisposition to a particular sphere of magic, but for each sphere there was a separate ritual, there was no common one.

As for the project, Flitwick cut my project down to Davis's level. I don't know what was the key reason for this decision.

"I was a little hasty in accepting your four — zone project," Flitwick said, " this option is redundant for the training program. Previously, no one combined even two zones in such greenhouses, all the separation was created already inside the expanded space. Your decision with Davis is quite original in itself. But, I decided that it was not worth the risk of overloading the design with a pile of charms. Make a two-room greenhouse — this will be enough for the assimilation of the curriculum. Later, you can do something more complex if you wish.

I understood the half-goblin's position, and the explanation was perfectly acceptable, but I sensed that he wasn't telling the whole truth.

In all subjects, Davis and I were ahead of the class. An interesting training program, if only because of the individual training, a friend who was quite suitable for me to communicate on various interesting topics, a softer environment compared to the orphanage — all this made my stay at Hogwarts a happy time for me. I had to constantly remind myself that the wizarding world was not a pink fairy tale for girls, with balls and pumpkin carriages, that the Blisters would soon be reborn, and that I was still an orphan.

There were sometimes conflicts that reminded me of my own position in the magical world.

It seemed to me that obscurus had fallen asleep forever, that he would remain in this state, giving me the opportunity to calmly develop in ordinary magic without looking back. But, this situation lasted only until the first conflict.

By accepting Davis ' participation and actively involving him in my work, I hoped to avoid unnecessary attention, both from teachers and from other students. I wanted to cover myself with a full-blooded Davis, putting him on the front. It didn't work out, but I still attracted attention.

The conflict arose out of the blue, for no apparent reason, with the first-year Slytherin students. I decided to take care of the Hufflepuff girl for a while. A pretty blonde half-breed with a quiet character and an average potential in strength. She didn't promise to grow into a powerful witch that would be interesting to the purebloods on her own, I wasn't supposed to have any competition — not now, not in my freshman year. And I wasn't going to do anything serious, just establish contacts, make friends. By all rights, I didn't break anything, but some people didn't like my behavior.

Perhaps I was wrong to bother with approaches to girls too early, but it seemed to me that it was better to start communicating in advance, just psychologically be ready for the moment when the time comes for something serious. And I chose for the beginning of communication not completely lost option, but not the King's daughter.

Back in my previous life, when I was at school, there was one girl in our class, she was beautiful and studied well, but she dressed somehow nondescript, albeit neat, and in her behavior she did not have any bright "gestures". Therefore, for all her remarkable data, she was a gray mouse in the class, although if she wanted to, she could shine. That's about the same goal I chose for myself.

"Hi," I greeted Asia Farrell, much to her embarrassment. — I'm Blair from Ravenclaw's freshman year.

"I know," the girl said, still fighting her embarrassment.

— You're pretty good at charms, " I complimented her, even though she was probably close to average in level.

"Thank you," the girl said, even more embarrassed by my flattery.

- Let's be friends? I suggested directly.

For what I love my current age, so for the opportunity to be direct. After a couple of years, if I approach a girl like that, or anyone else, and just offer friendship, I'll get a wry smile in return. Yes, there will also be embarrassment and embarrassment, but friendship will not immediately improve. Most likely, in response, I will receive an indistinct mutter and alienation, I will be embarrassed in response and will never approach anyone with such an offer again. But now, just coming up with the offer "let's be friends", it is quite possible to get what you want.

- Well, come on — - the girl agreed, waiting for me to further develop the situation, giving the initiative.

"Do you know," I asked, " that Davis and I have a project of our own. We are supervised by our dean, and your dean, Professor Sprout, supports us well.

"Yes, I heard something like that," Asia said, still embarrassed.

— I'm often seen in the library — " I said, a little untruthfully. The fact is that our faculty has a lot of books in the living room. It is not necessary to go to the school library to find material for writing an essay. Everything you need is in the living room. But I was actually going to go to the library for a couple of weeks, just to make contact, and then I could bring a friend to visit me in the faculty lounge. — We could do our homework together.

"Thank you," the girl said, " I'll think about it."

It seemed counterproductive to leave the conversation on "I'll think about it", so I continued to push, just to knock off this position, no matter which way, just not to end on this note.

"If you need any help, just tell me," I said, and nodded my head in the affirmative, as if to increase my own impressiveness.

"All right, Blair, I'll remember," Farrell said more positively. On this I decided to limit myself, for the first conversation is enough.

During the entire conversation, we walked down the corridor. As we talked, it was as if a zone of alienation had formed around us, although some of the Hufflepuff girls were glaring with interest. After the last sentence, I fell back a little, allowing Asia to experience a moment of glory. She was immediately surrounded by the Hufflepuff girls, especially Mandy Day, who was questioning Asia about something. There were muttered whispers and giggles. I felt an evil look on my face, and when I turned around, I saw Bletchley with a nasty little smile on his face.

Miles Bletchley of Slytherin turned his attention to me when he noticed my tackle on Farrell. It was hard to say exactly what he didn't like, but the way he looked at me promised trouble, my intuition screamed it. And I was right, trouble still followed.

It's just that one day I was walking down the hall and I got "dumbfounded," and when I fell, Miles was leaning over me, so I could see him, with his friend Adrian Pusey.

"Don't take it personally, Blair," Miles said, " it's just that you've misbehaved. First, normal wizards choose their girls, and only then such as you.

I couldn't say anything. In general, this whole situation and conflict were sucked out of the finger. Most boys at this age perceive girls as creatures of a different species, like dogs, cats, or even dangerous poisonous snakes, and try to avoid them. Therefore, the reason for the attack was clearly far-fetched. Most likely, I encountered an individual like Warren, who decided to start his journey to the heights of power.

Wizards perceived obscura somewhat differently than the commoners. The wearer of the obscura rather caused them a vague irritation and seemed downtrodden and hunted. I managed to find out about this by having a heart-to-heart conversation with Davis. I may have tried to sound confident, but I didn't seem to be able to do it completely.

To Bletchley, I looked like a harmless boy with a message on my back: kick me. Children are quite cruel simply because of a misunderstanding and are able to cross the boundaries of humanity not out of necessity or with any intent, but simply on a whim or for company, on the principle: everyone does, and I do. Only a small part of children are cruel at the behest of the soul and simply by nature, most do various dirty tricks and abominations simply out of stupidity.

"It's just a warning, Blair," Miles said, and spat in my face, " you won't get off so easily next time."

They left, leaving me lying paralyzed in one of the empty classrooms I'd been dragged into. My stomach was churning, and it wasn't good. A strong stupefy can keep me paralyzed for twenty-four hours, but a child's Bletchley shot at me will only last for a couple of hours, but it will be enough to make me late to return to the faculty lounge before lights out. Not fatal, but unpleasant. It was especially frustrating to get spat in the face and the fact that it was almost the first time I had walked out of the library alone, without Davis. Maybe those Slytherins wouldn't have attacked me if I wasn't alone.

I thought about the red-haired bastard, promising myself terrible revenge on him.

But I didn't have to wait two hours. In addition to the shit bubbling in my emotions and thoughts, a dark mass of obscura stirred in my soul. He looked around, got his bearings, and just ate the stupefai spell that was "hanging" on me, and all its consequences. Warm and cold waves passed through my body, washing away the remnants of unpleasant sensations, and obscurus again lurked inside me, but no longer in a sleeping form.

I wiped away the spittle and hurried into the living room. My indignant mind was so startled by what had happened that even the seething wave of "noble anger" in my soul somewhat subsided.

I wondered, replaying the memory over and over in my mind.

It seemed that obscurus was also happy to eat other people's magic, and to some extent even more willing to eat other people's magic, perceiving various curses and other people's influence as competitors. If you give an analogy, then some viruses do not tolerate competition. As they say: a wedge is knocked out with a wedge. Obscurus went into hibernation after the shock, and when he woke up, instead of trying to master my power, he took stupefai's spell as a threat to himself, and at the same time he ate a bunch of small curses that I wouldn't even have noticed if it wasn't for my now-symbiote.

As I lay in bed, I turned over a lot of thoughts in my head, trying to understand the degree of omnivore of my obscura. He probably won't digest Avada. Different cutting and explosive, all that kill and injure immediately without delay, will also be very harmful for me, but all prolonged or delayed actions of the spell will come off me either instantly or much faster than expected.

I was wondering how obscurus would react to the ancestral curses. The fact is that all ancestral curses come through the so-called altar of the genus or, in other words, the ancestral stone. Usually, it is placed next to a wild source of magic, and it processes mana into a convenient "color" magic for the genus. All ancestral curses also flow from the ancestral stone. Any, even very strong personal curse in the second generation is already greatly weakened, infection of the stone kind from personal curses does not happen, except for blood traitors. But this is an exception.

Infection can occur if the head of the clan, being under some strong curse, will sacrifice his power to the clan, but even then the probability of infection is very low. From the memory of my ancestors, I knew that in the old days, when the ancestral altars were first used, it was customary to sacrifice your enemies on the altar, or even just defeated magicians and magical creatures. This method of amplification first became very "fashionable", Rod could get, thus, a magical gift from the sacrificed. But it soon became clear that there were poorly compatible gifts that mutually weakened each other, and the second negative factor was the generic curses, which remained a "gift" from the victim.

Various complex rituals were developed, special preparations of victims were carried out, the best ratios for different gifts were calculated, the best moments for sacrifices were selected according to the position of the heavenly bodies and the time of day. The curses were loosened, the unbound gifts were gradually added to the family treasury as best they could, but still: the weakening went on, and the curses left their mark. Then many began to refuse violent victims or were content with the blood of ordinary animals.

For the magical world, altars were first a blessing, and then turned into a curse. Many ancient families died out before they knew what was happening. Some had time to understand and began to offer sacrificial animals on the altar, trying to weaken the curses or translate them into something less harmful. There were also cases of self-sacrifice, which in many cases turned out to be useless, because the flow of energy that was trying to wash away the curse was already infected. The analogies are not exact, but this is about how my ancestors explained it to themselves, in whose memory I saw fragments of memories related to this topic.

Later, the sacrificial child ritual was developed. When the newborn was hung with all the curses of the family, which only spread the ancestral altar. The child, as a rule, became a squib, and he was placed somewhere or simply handed over to a shelter. After such a ritual, all curses were greatly weakened for many years, weak generic curses could completely disappear if at that time there was no carrier among the active members of the genus. But most often the curses returned, even if not in full force, but after the death of the "sacrificial child", the curses again began to gain a harmful effect. It was more correct to call this ritual the creation of a live filter.

Why was such a cruel ritual performed on a child? Are there no adult magicians who are brave enough to sacrifice themselves for their own kind? Things happen. But such a sacrifice is useless, as already mentioned, an adult member of the family is already polluted, but it is only part of the reason is the impossibility to use such a noble and brave as the victim, among other things an adult is deprived of natural protection which has a little wizard, accepting all the curses of the genus kill an adult in seconds without any use for the sort. The child, as a rule, has a natural defense and does not have its own active magic. Curses will not manifest themselves in any way in the child, except that he will often be ill at an early age and will forever remain a squib. Any external signs on the sacrificial child appear only if there were some very special and vile curses on the genus.

But I don't care about all the curses as long as there's a pinhole inside. It's a huge curse in itself that will devour any other without leaving a trace. For any aristocratic family, I can become a filter, taking all the "garbage" on myself, cleaning out the magic of the family. Complete purification is hardly possible as long as there are other members of the genus in which the curses have already taken root, but a strong weakening of the curses will breathe new life into any old genus.

How interesting. On the one hand, I myself am a walking curse, a defective material, and on the other, I am a salvation from curses, a treasure for the magical aristocracy.

It was with these thoughts that I fell asleep.

The next day the story of the Bletchley attack continued, but I was no longer alone.

I wasn't going to take any action about the attack, which was pretty stupid of me. For the likes of Miles Bletchley, impunity is tantamount to permission, and the first experience for him was positive. He had already decided that there would be nothing for the attack, rather, on the contrary, he would gain some weight in the eyes of his peers.

"Arra, Arra —" I heard Miles call.

Is it necessary to say that "Arra" has different meanings in many languages and cultures? Specifically in this place and time, the Macaw was most likely meant, but I knew that the Armenians call "macaw", equivalent to the Russian "hey guy", something similar to this exclamation is the Japanese. I don't like my name…

"Can't you hear me," Miles continued to shout.

"You have to," I said, " and you'll do it yourself."

Bletchley came over.

— Aren't you a little cocky for a mudblood?" Miles said, as if talking to himself.

It should be noted that he was able to make an impression.

"Davis," Miles pressed my friend, " this is none of your business.

"What is it that doesn't concern me, Bletchley?" Roger tried to argue.

"The mudblood thing," the Slytherin explained, " or did your family take Blair under their protection?"

"No," Roger said, and took a step back.

"Well, I'm alone," I thought.

I'll admit that Bletchley quite skillfully forced Roger to back out of the confrontation, giving him a formal excuse not to lose face. If Davies had just saved him, he would have been considered a traitor and a coward by all men's rules, but as it was, there was no patronage, and he was forced to recognize Bletchley's right.

Of course, no matter how you look at it, but Davis was scared. There were three Slytherins, and today, besides Pewsey and Miles, there was Peregrine Derrek, and there were two of us. There are few brave men on Ravenclaw who can keep up the moral pressure. If Miles and company had attacked at once, Davies would have jumped into the situation, I'm pretty sure. And so, I myself am not one of the daredevils, when someone is pressed, I can consider it best to pass by. Although I would probably have stood up for Davis, I think.

"You don't get it yet, Blair," Miles said, taking me carefully by the front of my robe, mimicking a button hold, " Slytherin students are somewhat taller than everyone else at Hogwarts. It may not be written anywhere, but everyone understands it. Those like you who do not want to understand simple truths will be taught.

"What do you want, Bletchley?" I asked. — I'm not touching you, I have nothing against Slytherin.

"If you touched me," Miles said menacingly, " you'd be ground to powder." Now you have to learn, understand where you belong. If I need anything from you, be ready to do it. Got it?"

"No, — I said —" I don't owe you anything, so don't boo…

I was interrupted by a sudden blow to the stomach.

"Don't say anything now," Miles said calmly. Tomorrow I'll ask you what you've decided.

Patting me on the cheek, the red-haired bastard turned around and, accompanied by his associates, walked away down the corridor.

Davis helped me walk to our living room all the time on the road trying to make excuses for his intervention and promising to get help. However, Davis offered a pretty sensible idea. Assuming that pressing me wasn't sanctioned by the students at Slytherin House, much less the faculty. Such a rough hit — and-run on one particular student is a hit-and-run on the entire faculty, and a single hit-and-run. Davis decided to tell the prefect what had happened.

The headman asked me about the details and asked me to wait for ten minutes, and he went to find out the nuances in the dungeons to the headman of Slytherin.

As expected, the hit-and-run was Bletchley's private initiative. The Slytherin headman had promised to explain to Miles Bletchley that what he had done should not be done, and why it should not be done.

I didn't have any more problems with Bletchley... for a while. But the information about the incident somehow became known to the general public. The fact that I could not solve the problem myself, but turned to the headman, had a bad effect on my reputation. It was obvious that Miles was spreading rumors about me, making me look bad in this whole situation.

The next continuation of the situation was that Asia Farrell refused to be friends with me. I don't know what her new friends told her, but when I sat down with her in the library, she just got up without saying a word, took her things and moved to another table, and I was left sitting all red with shame and anger.

When I heard Bletchley laugh, I knew to whom I owed the experience. Approaching Miles and company, who were enjoying themselves, I said: "When I'm an adult, I'll challenge you to a duel and kill you."

There was no more laughter from Bletchley.

There were enough witnesses in the library, so the news spread pretty quickly. What is remarkable is that this behavior earned me respect from not only Gryffindor, but also Slytherin. Bletchley tried to turn the situation around by challenging me to a duel.

"Blair," Ginger called out to me in the rather crowded hallway, " you promised to kill me." Why wait a few years? I challenge you to a duel now.

"You're a coward, Bletchley —" I said calmly, now that the general authority and the situation were on my side, " dueling is forbidden in the school without the headmaster's permission. A school student duel without the possibility of causing serious harm to my health will not suit me. Another duel, without permission, will trigger a magic rollback. But if you insist on a duel now, I will swear by magic and summon the court of magic. Is that what you want, Bletchley?" I asked after a pause.

When I summon the court of magic, I am not subject to any other laws. If the summoning didn't kill me, Bletchley would be in an even worse position. After that, the duel will not be avoided, and what the consequences will be, no one knows. Definitely, the winner will be kicked out of school.

"Never mind, Blair," the Slytherin replied —

Bletchley's authority had sunk even further, and he was no longer an outcast in his department, but no one else took him seriously. His companions left him, joining Warrington. Warrington himself even praised me and thanked me in a veiled way for bringing down Bletchley's authority. But Asia didn't come back to me. The friendship between us was completely ruined, for which Farrell was tacitly condemned in her own department. The essence of her "offense", I could not understand, and I considered it beneath my dignity to ask and find out from third parties.

But with Davis, friendly relations, which at the beginning of all this conflict began to sink sharply and break, went well. We can say that the end of the conflict raised me to the top of authority. For how long?..

I was wondering if the teachers of Hogwarts, not at all aware of everything that is happening? After all, the headmen of the faculties were involved in the situation, and dozens of students became witnesses of our altercations.

Even in my previous life, when I was analyzing my school memories, I came to the conclusion that teachers see everything perfectly if they want to see it. In the same way, any dean of Hogwarts notices leaders in his department, can guess at a glance who did not complete an independent task today, knows who is cheating from whom, who is a friend or enemy to whom.

It turned out that Flitwick knew about the whole situation. He may be very busy with his direct duties, but he pays attention to the faculty. He promised to help me catch up in dueling in senior years.

I could tell from the faces of the professors that Snape was also aware of all the events, and perhaps also that Headmaster Dumbledore was aware of them.

Well, you can't live without enemies at all, I've already got the first one. Among my friends, I have Davis, sort of, who suits me as a fellow student and just a chat buddy. Unfortunately, in some serious situation, Davis can't be counted on.

I lost Asia without really finding it.