31

September 16, morning, outside Hogwarts.

Night, street, lantern, pharmacy... it seems we started from the wrong place.

Beautiful morning, Hogwarts castle courtyard. The air here is so clean and fresh that it was impossible to breathe it. Or perhaps it's not because of the air, but something else that young magicians need so much?

 An orderly row of brooms. Yes, yes, exactly a broom. They looked like an ordinary janitor's tool, the same sloppy broom, a crooked stick. And all this is somehow connected.

 But these were not the same brooms. Oh no, everything was much more mysterious and interesting. No one will remember why they started using brooms for this in England. In Slavic countries they used stupas for this, but that was before, now they use more advanced methods of movement. In India, carpets were used, in China, blades with a wide blade were used.

 What unites a carpet, a broom, a mortar and a sword? The answer for magicians is simple. Flight. Each of these items was an individual means of flight for magicians. And after this, are magicians sane people? Some doubts are creeping in.

 It was these brooms that lay in a row in front of the first-year students of the Ravens and Badgers. Most children looked at these "means" of transportation with caution. But there were those who stared at them in anticipation. Mostly these were children from aristocratic houses. They knew what these vehicles were for and how to use them. That's why they looked a little down on children from ordinary families.

 But, as in any case, there are exceptions. In our case there are two of them. These were completely different children, namely two teenagers. The only thing they have in common is their hair color. Both of them were brown-haired. And then one had a much lighter hair color than the other.

 But it is not their appearance that attracts the eye, of course it was also something memorable, but no, not her.

 What attracts the eye is their attitude to everything that happens.

 The first boy was on edge. Yes, he was on edge, he was literally shaking from just looking at the brooms. His nervous movements, too sharp turns of his head - all this betrayed his fear. Also, one should not lose sight of his indistinct muttering to the second boy. It looks like he is trying to convey something to his interlocutor.

 It's the second boy who stands out against his background. What's special? And the whole point is in his attitude to the reality around him. It feels as if he is not on the street, in the middle of the yard, but somewhere on a walk. Calm look, confident movements. All this creates an interesting picture. But there is also one more important detail. If the other children were nervous or communicating with each other, then it was this representative of the human race who was currently reading a book on charms.

 And it was precisely because of this detail that the children glanced more in his direction than in the direction of the first boy. After all, fear of something is a given, but complete ignorance of fear or anticipation before the flight created dissonance in the minds of children.

 This is how time passed. The crowd of children tried to ignore this couple, but still glanced at them. And they, in turn, completely detached themselves from their surroundings and were busy with their own affairs.

*****

 Monday is a hard day. And if on this day you go to study or work, then most of the world's population will completely curse this day.

 For me personally, this day could have been the same, if not for one thing. The secret room finally became available to me, so the need for half of the lessons somehow disappeared by itself. Moreover, a possessed person, a ghost and a physical trainer can give me a standard bottle. That's right, nothing. This makes it even more painful to realize that today I have to devote to the physical education teacher and the ghost.

*Sigh*

 But I have so many plans, goals and things to do that require immediate decisions. Just look at Poppy's task.

 What could be so hard about reading and remembering a couple of books? Well, she won't force a freshman to learn entire Talmuds. This is exactly what I thought on that memorable Saturday, leaving after a conversation with the honey witch. But, as they say, we assume, but higher powers have it. That's exactly what happened.

 The list that Poppy gave was not very long. It consisted of only two positions. But which ones?

 The first position: "What makes a person and what motivates him." Truly a gigantic Talmud, designed for at least a month of thoughtful consideration and analysis of the information received. But it still needs to be learned. But the worst thing about it is that the "composition" is described here not from the point of view of Muggle science, which I secretly expected, but from the point of view of magical flows and their interaction. And an ordinary magician was dismantled there. You might think so what? And the fact is that magicians, with rare exceptions, are ordinary. If they have any strong inclination towards the elements, and also develop it, then this is where the juice begins. What does it cost to change cells, their behavior, and the like. And this is the easiest example. This is also not described in the book, this particular example is given as future material that remains to be studied... I'm afraid to imagine what will happen with metamorphisms, werewolves and other magical varieties of humans.

 Second position: "First aid and charms are used during first aid." Another Talmud. I haven't started reading it yet, just today I'll have to finish reading the first ones, and tomorrow I'll start reading it... and where can I find the time?

 What hopes did you have for studying a book on metamorphism, what dreams did you have for training it? But alas. The estimated weeks stretch to two and a half. And this is just an assumption of what will happen after the conversation with Miss Pomfrey on Saturday. I'm afraid to even guess.

 In general, the last lesson gave quite a lot of food for thought. What is it worth only the alleged persecution from the guild, if my independent training without control from the same guild becomes known?

 I knew about the ban and possible pitfalls when looking for a teacher, but such. Still, the world of magicians is a medieval society and the laws here are much stricter than in the ordinary world.

 But still, I didn't lie to the witch's honey. If I can't find a teacher, I'll try to learn this science myself. Although on her part it might seem comical.

 Just imagine the picture: standing in front of you is a mere child who is trying to talk in all seriousness about his future confrontation with one of the most influential forces in the magical world. And that's what she is, believe me. Many magicians want to be healthy and live and be beautiful as long as possible. Therefore, they are ready to give absolutely enormous amounts of money for their desires.

 It follows from this: the Guild of Witch Doctors, or as it is also called the Guild of Healers, is one of the richest and most powerful forces in the world of magicians, both in terms of magical power, yet healers are generally quite strong, and in political terms.

 So tell me, how will you react to the words of a petty sick person about his war with such force? I think most would laugh.

I hope I didn't blurt out too much in our conversation with her.

This is exactly what I was thinking while standing on the street waiting for the "physical instructor."

*Sigh*

"Calm down, Nev," I said, closing the book on charms that I had read before.

"Everything will be fine, the main thing is not to be afraid, because brooms feed on our magic." And she may well transfer our insecurities to brooms, which can lead to undesirable consequences.

And Nev was really nervous. This was expressed in his movements, pale face and bitten lip.

– Remember, Kol, I told you that as a child I was considered almost a squib? – my nod was the answer. Indeed, he told me about his not so simple childhood.

"That's why my Uncle Anthony decided to ride a broom." After all, as you know, if a person has magic, then he can fly on a broom. Just imagine the picture: you and your uncle, one of your closest relatives, are flying across the sky. Air, sun, sky. Everything is fine. But at one moment your uncle's grip on you weakens, and you hear: "Fly, baby." And your uncle falls off his broom.

 Nev fell silent. It's clear from him that he doesn't really like to remember this. But then he sighed and continued:

"That day I learned that I was actually a magician." Even if not the strongest. But that fear for himself and his uncle overpowered this joy. Fear that penetrated to the very bones. It seemed to freeze my soul. After that I am afraid of heights, as well as brooms.

"You know," I began after a minute of silence.

"Even though I wasn't there, I can fully understand your fear." It will never go away if you continue to be afraid. But still, sooner or later you will need to grow above yourself, so why not start now. It is at this very moment that you pull yourself together and tell yourself: "I can do it, I will do it. And nothing will stop me, not fear, not even death itself." After all, what else do we need? Only desire, the most ordinary desire. Don't you find it?

As soon as I said this, our "physical instructor" came up. Well, another three hours erased from my life await me.

 After my words, Nev fell silent. The words that I told him are what drives me. So why not give my friend the same boost?

Neville Longbottom was an ordinary boy. An ordinary magician, who does not stand out from the rest.

 Since childhood, he had many fears. One of them is to be alone. After all, when he was a little over a year old, he lost his parents before his eyes. At that moment, he ardently wanted to save his parents, because he is a magician, and as his dad said: "Mages, if they want, are capable of anything."

 At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to save his parents. And he even succeeded, or so he thought. After all, what was it, namely the loss of all strength and the envelopment of one's parents in bright light, if not magic?

But he was wrong. He did not save his parents, which means he is not a magician.

This is what he lived with, alone, not being a magician.

 But everything changed in one moment. He met his friend Calder Wilson. A Muggle-born wizard, but at the same time he was a real genius. Even before they met, he considered him as such, and only after.

 His manner of behavior, the feeling around him, his knowledge, and most importantly, his magic. All this was something incredible for him.

"Maybe next to him, I'll become someone special?"

This is exactly the thought that was in my head at that moment. And I will be ashamed of her for the rest of my life.

 After we met, everything went differently. Magic began to work out, I became something like a magician.

But then came the flying lesson. And again the fear that appeared in me when I was watching my uncle. Fear of being alone, fear for someone close to me.

 But as it turns out, I'm not alone. Calder and his words. It was he and his words that became for me what will move me along this path. The ways of the magician. And I know Kol has been walking along it for a long time. Well, I will be next to him as his most faithful ally.

*****

 And no one noticed the bright, all-penetrating light, the color comparable to a spring forest. This light was not just a beam, like from a lantern. No. It was the light from the raging green flames of a fire.

But as soon as this light appeared, it disappeared along with the fire. Only a small spark was somewhere there, in the depths of those eyes that were no longer so frightened.

*****

 I don't know what influenced Neville so much, our friendship or my words, but he was able to fly through the entire lesson without any complications. And guess what? I'm happy for him, maybe these are his first steps towards something bigger.

"Well done, Nev," I said, clapping him on the shoulder. - You see, everything is possible. And don't worry.

"This is not my achievement, it's all thanks to you, Kol." – he answered me embarrassedly.

- Hah, what? Is it true? Do you think I climbed on this broom and flew like the islanders? – my gaze rested on the broom that was clutching his hands. – There are no my achievements here, Nev. It's all you yourself, and I just passed by. – I said, smiling at the same time. Still, I'm happy for him.

On his part, the answer was only a nod. Well, good. He did it, and that's the main thing.

- Well, let's go to the dining room? – I asked a rhetorical question and went in her direction.

Moving a couple of meters away from him, I heard a barely audible whisper:

"Thank you, friend," the storm of feelings that he tried to convey is impossible to describe.

- What? – I said with a smile. - Did you say something? – pretended that he didn't hear.

"Nothing," shaking his head. "Let's go to the dining room," and having caught up with me, he walked next to me.

– That's what I'm talking about.

That's how we went. Smiling like two morons.

Please, Nev.