Chapter 12

It's not too hard to transform a living thing into a living being, especially when you're basically just increasing the size of the object. I'm strong enough. The usual magical variety of viper turned into a giant fifteen-meter snake and, after receiving a subduing Imperio spell on the head, went to ravage the spider's lair. Not a Basilisk, of course, but not bad. She did a great job. The acromantulas scurried away, their paws glistening. Snakes are their natural enemies.

I entered the cave with my wands in my hands and under the cover of a snake. It wasn't hard to find the cocoon with the girl, it was one of the first in the storeroom. I pulled it out with a levitation spell. Then I thought about it and went to rip precious spiderwebs off the walls. There was not only a lot of it, but a lot of it. I barely had enough power to reduce them and stomp them into the pockets with the expanded space. I unchained the snake, but it didn't return to its normal size. It's been feeding on magic spiders, and now it's going to be a twenty-meter hose by the time it's digested. Morgana was with it. I ordered it to crawl away, but it gave me a very reasonable look, hissed, and went deep into the forest.

I cast diagnostic spells on the cocoon, but the girl was fine, as normal as possible after the adventures I'd had. Paralyzed from the poison, bruises, abrasions, but nothing life-threatening. I picked her up unpacked and carried her to school. Here, like a healthy sixteen-year-old forehead, dragging a small freshman, and hail of sweat. You weakling! My whole body is pounding, adrenaline withdrawal. It was only at the castle that the guys from our faculty rushed to my aid, while the rest of us stared stupidly.

 I should have signaled and waited for my comrades to come running, but stress doesn't make you adequate. The cocoon with the baby was dragged into the infirmary by the fifth years with six hands, and I wandered into the bedroom. I was so apathetic that I didn't want to do anything to fall asleep. I didn't even bother to put the cobwebs in the trunk, I threw the whole robe in there. I don't care, the expansion charms on the chest are of high quality, no precious resources will be lost.

Woke up, famous. First-year students watched with admiration, older girls risked earning squints, beautiful. Lion Headmasters lost their badges and were ostracized, the fools who poisoned the girl became outcasts and acquired a bunch of cosmetic curses and jinxes. And I had a problem in the form of a tail-wagging little girl. It was my own fault, of course, but it was wrong not to visit her rescued in Madam Pomfrey's domain.

The Hufflepuff were receptive, and Anna had slipped into the living room almost as soon as she was released, where she joined the children doing their homework. And a week or so later, in the morning, I found her coming down the stairs from the side of the girls' dormitory. And someone had lent her a robe and a scarf with black and yellow symbols and the Hufflepuff crest. Frankly, I tried to open my mouth, but a bunch of underage badgers ready to fight for their own elicited nothing but admiration and respect.

There was an uproar in the Great Hall at breakfast when McGonagall caught a glimpse of her lost kitten among our young people. Truth be told, even the lion cubs didn't quite understand her point. I'll bet most of the faculty was aware of the girl's situation, but they either kept quiet and didn't interfere, or participated in the bullying themselves.

The first person to stand up for the girl was Emma. Thanks to her, I needed a conflict with the vice-principal to be happy. Then Pomona stood up and figuratively rammed McGonagall's face into the table. Anna, accompanied by Minerva and Sprout, went to the principal's office, where the ritual of distribution was repeated. There was no doubt about the result, so we had a little party to celebrate the unexpected but pleasant event.

Funnily enough, it was the first time in six years that I was in the kitchen. Somehow, in my junior year, I had missed the destiny of running there as a messenger, but I didn't want to. I had enough to eat, no desire to eat extra, and if I did, there was always something in the living room. An apple or a cake. In general, I'd never been particularly picky about food, and I even liked pumpkin juice. Not too many people turned up their noses at it, they just did it for show. The abundance of elves scurrying back and forth made me dizzy. Hundreds of beady-eyed elves in pillowcases, towels, sheets, and some unidentifiable rags. Although there is something blue and patterned that looks like a curtain. Original, though.

 — Hello, wizard sir. — The closest creature jumped to me and bowed deeply, wagging its ears at the ground, while the others that came close to me limited themselves to bowing at the waist. — What can the house elf do for you?

 — Hello. — I nod my head slightly and direct some of my magic into the room, causing the nearest house-elves to roll their eyes and generally get incredibly high. — Collecting a basket for a small party to celebrate the acceptance of a new member.

 — We're fast, good wizard sir, — there was no snapping of fingers and appearance of the basket of food, or rather, the basket appeared just like that, but it was filled in the usual way, bringing and packing food with hands.

 — Thank you, — I thanked them with a new wave of magic and took the basket.

Interesting creatures. A great creation of the mages of the past. They were created at the intersection of chimerology and demonology. An artificial body capable of reproduction with a summoned spirit instead of a soul. It's a variation of possession. Only it's not that simple. How many times have I read about these creatures in my past life, how they were used and what they could do. Unfortunately, the reality is far from desirable.

For one thing, they have no special magic. Magic in general is uniform, but it can be given properties that are useful for some specific manipulations. Back to the house elves. Let me give you a simple example. There is a spell of Eternal Transfiguration, studied in the fifth year. Basically, it's a way to change the shape of a substance without changing its structure. The same block of stone can be used to make a house, a bridge, a road, anything with enough imagination and power. If you use these charms constantly and for a long time, sooner or later you will learn to use them without a concentrator.

 And then you can snap your fingers, or tear your hair, or pick your nose when you cast magic. It'll look like you're using different spells. That's how house elves are, they have a limited list of practiced spells that they use. And they learn them, poor guys, without tools, by consciously building structures out of mana. I tried it once, but what the hell, it's a pain in the ass to boil brains like that. It's easier to cast a spell ten thousand times with a wand to get the same result.

The second important thing about house elves is their voracity. It's not that they don't have magic of their own, but they produce very little mana, so little that their bodies collapse without external fuel. So they have to use borrowed power to live. Well, since they are ghosts in terms of energy, they can do that. Of course, we are not talking about insignificant crumbs.

Otherwise, these useful little ears would be everywhere. It is Hogwarts, with one of the largest natural sources and a lot of regular wizards, that can feed hundreds of house-elves, and the average wizard will draw one, while becoming almost twice as weak. On the one hand, this is very good for development, but on the other hand, it's not very comfortable. The feeling of loss and fatigue will pass with time, or rather, you'll get used to it, but the impossibility of, for example, apparating to the usual distances or using the previously available charms usually puts a damper on the desire to get a servant.

As for loyalty to the master. Here everything is simple: magical oath and any other binding on spiritual entities lies better, and the creators were not fools, tweaked the creation, taking as a model of dogs and the connection type of familial. Perhaps the only real advantage of house-elves is teleportation. You could say that they apparate on frequencies inaccessible to most wizards, which is why they can easily pass through ordinary barriers.

Theoretically, any wizard can do this, and even better, but it's pointless to spend an unknown amount of time and effort on training that's far from safe. It is easier to enchant a portal-key, set the parameters and use it. Besides, you can simply pump it with excessive force and it will trivially break through a weaker barrier. Of course, this will not be without consequences for the moving person, but you will not die. The greater the difference, the safer.

And besides the key, the magician has own reserve of power, and no one forbids the use of batteries. By the way, anything can be used as an accumulator, but the best ones are gems and other objects that have a clear atomic lattice.

In general, house-elf elves are of little use to anyone, because you can easily do without them. In a school full of free magic, it is convenient to have hundreds of employees who do not need to be paid. In a mansion, with a source or a lot of wizards, you can also start, but in an ordinary house, it is so, on a lover. By the way, to take one of them, you have to pay a thousand galleons to the school, and it is still cheap for a trained servant.

By the way, magicians prefer ears much more than springs, because for them they are an exquisite delicacy. And you can't see them in school, because they're distracted — one, and probably drunk — two. They look like they've been hit by a wave of fresh mana.