Chapter 7. Salvation

Dark Arts

The consequences of jitters and an overabundance of emotions haunted us all through lunch. The buried food in the form of toasts and other goodies did not save the Gryffindors from sullen reverie.

Although, it is worth admitting that it was much easier for us than for the rest of the faculties. By the way, thanks to me, we passed this fanatical test from Sprout, unlike the others.

Hufflepuff was burning with the deepest guilt and shame in front of Megan Jones, who now invariably sat next to Jack Spinks, who was in the hospital wing at the time of the check, and with the daredevil-Jerry, as we began to call a little boy the size of Sally Ann and with her own complexion.

In Ravenclaw, Michael Corner turned against his friends, and began to sit apart from the others, stopping any communication with the crows.

Slytherins, especially girls, were promised all sorts of punishments by Daphne Greengrass, and she was supported by her faithful friend Tracy Davis, who always sat at the same desk with her, and also skipped Traumology, healing injuries.

Because of all this, we went to the new Enchantment lesson in a slightly depressed state. The situation was greatly corrected by Seamus, who seemed to have endured the Trauma the easiest, even though he was at the very edge of the professor's production.

— Yes, you understand, we did it! You found the strength to volunteer, Dean," he pointed at his friend, "if you had been present at the lesson, I'm sure you wouldn't have stayed away either. And the rest of you don't need to hang snot - think what you want, but I know that if it took five or six volunteers instead of four, then one of you would definitely join. So I don't hold a grudge against anyone, on the contrary, I am grateful to you all and just happy.

— Are you happy? What's so happy about it-they threatened to cut off your arm an hour and a half ago," Sally—Ann said.

— But they didn't cut it off! And thanks to everything that happened, I became convinced of what a loyal and fearless team we are. Yes, we guys are cool! It's just that not everyone knows about it yet. Even you, Neville, I saw you trying to get up when Harry and Ron volunteered. Hermione just beat you to it.

Neville blushed and didn't answer, and I still didn't understand if Seamus was telling the truth about him, or if he just supported his classmate with an invention so that he wouldn't lose his temper and blame himself for cowardice too much.

The Spell lesson has passed... Extraordinary, but how else could he have passed? This time, every book in the study turned out to be enchanted, and our task was simply not to touch them - so to speak, fixing the material after the case with the chest.

We only found out about this when Michael Korner, wishing to sit as far away from his faculty as possible, chose a place very close to the dangerous folios lying everywhere. And he managed to run his curious finger along the spines of a whole stack of books at that moment!

They came to life, and began to move around the whole class with low jumps, trying to bite the legs of careless freshmen. So we spent the whole lesson on benches with our legs raised, which was a rather uncomfortable position in which the muscles on our legs quickly went numb.

Well, Flitwick, in his own style, mixed the presentation of the material with ridicule of the students. And if someone did not feel the full depth of the half-goblin's humor, or even dared to somehow show their displeasure with what was happening, then the poor man's feet were firmly glued to the floor for a few minutes, becoming the coveted prey of predator books.

Nothing critical, because the paper teeth of all sorts of textbooks only unpleasantly scratched the skin through the trousers. The girls had a harder time, but they also showed by their appearance that they had already gone through something else. Moreover, when the students figured out what was going on and figured out a way to avoid this punishment, the problematic lesson became just a "lesson with special features".

The next and last class of the day was the sinister Dark Arts. Needless to say, every freshman, without exception, expected another tin, soaked in the unique flavor of the talking name of the subject?

But a real miracle was waiting for us, and his name is Professor Remus Lupin.

— You probably all got scared on the way here, — he began his speech at the beginning of the lesson, holding a pleasant smile on his face, — "Dark Arts", — he said in an ominous voice, — sounds really threatening. Immediately there are thoughts about something painful, gloomy, forbidden. Don't be afraid, in fact they are not as bad as you might think at first glance. You're Harry, aren't you? Harry Potter? Lupin suddenly shifted all his attention to one person.

"Yes, sir, it's me," Harry replied, afraid of such a sharp interest.

— Nice to meet you, Harry. I knew your parents, and it's nice to see their son learning magic, just like we once did.

Faint whispers began in the classroom.

— Did you know my parents? Potter asked, shocked.

— Yes, it is. I think we can talk about them after class, but now, let's not get distracted," Harry nodded in agreement, and Lupin continued: —Darkness is the unknown. And she, in turn, has the ability to scare. This is inherent in us from birth. However, if you immerse yourself in darkness and become one with it, then clarity is gained and there is a way out. Remember these words. And you, Harry, in particular.

What a vague statement. Is Potter supposed to remember this because of the Dark Lord? Is this an allusion to the horcrux? Or not? Unclear.

The professor, after his mysterious hints, began to speak more specifically:

— The Dark Arts will be studied by you as a general discipline during the first two courses. Then, it will be divided into separate specializations, which, if desired, you can take one of the additional subjects. We will go through the various evil spirits that exist in our world precisely because of dark practices, we will study the basics of evil eyes and curses, in general we will touch on the basics of necromancy...

The whole lesson I was waiting for some kind of trick. Painful practice, well, or demonstrating the professor's own methods of punishment. Yes, if he had started teaching us cruciatus on his own neighbors, I would have been less surprised than what happened in the end.

It was an ordinary lesson! We talked, participated in a dialogue with the teacher, read the first chapter of the textbook and received homework. That's it! The bell rang, and none of the students were injured! An unthinkable thing at Hogwarts!

It is worth admitting that after such cruel lessons, it was useful for the children to have at least one lesson without excesses. We had a great rest from moral shocks and physical injuries, and began to feel much better thanks to such a suspicious respite.

I had a theory that all the tin would happen alone with Harry Potter, but he quickly went out into the corridor, where we were quietly waiting for him, and claimed that they just had a nice conversation!

— I take back my words from the History of Magic, — Seamus informed us, — now my favorite subject is the Dark Arts!

And mine, too, apparently.

***

A new morning, the old feeling of sleeping without basic amenities. The guys and I firmly decided not to drain points for food anymore, but first save up for an "upgrade" of the bedroom. And our sixty points earned yesterday at Sprout were a good down payment to the common cause.

Because of this, however, we had to eat a meager breakfast in the Great Hall again, but we stoically endured this ordeal.

— Look! What's the matter with her? Ron drew our attention, pointing towards the Hufflepuff table.

—Don't point your finger, Ron, it's not nice," Hermione told him in a mentoring voice, to which he only snorted.

And something really strange was happening at the table of the first-year badgers. Hannah Abbott behaved differently: she sat on a bench in an indecent "agura" pose, that is, crossed her knees, laughed loudly, indulged in food - scooped porridge with her hands, ate part of it, and scattered the other and smeared it on the table.

As far as I managed to find out, the girl was quite modest, very timid and certainly not capable of such actions without a good reason.

"Is she crazy?" Dean suggested.

—Nah, she was probably cursed,— Seamus shared the theory.

I looked around: neither the teachers nor the seniors were paying attention to Hannah. The freshmen tried to calm her down, but she only behaved even more brazenly. In the end, Hannah jumped up on the table, ran over it, knocking over the dishes with her feet, and stormed out of the Great Hall to her loud laughter.

— Maybe we should catch up with her and find out what's going on? Harry asked his friends, worried.

- no. You never know where she went, and we can't do anything with her in such an inadequate state. Moreover, because of this, there is a risk of being late for the enchantment. Do you want to try your luck with Flitwick? Then let's give the badgers the opportunity to deal with their problem, and we will focus on the upcoming classes, — in the end everyone agreed with me, and we headed to the first lesson.

The Double Charms marked the end of introductory lessons and the transition to practice. We finally began to study spells, starting with a simple Lumos light spell. If it weren't for one thing.

The enchantment room turned from a spacious, bright room into a gloomy, impenetrable place, borrowed by Professor Flitwick as if from a horror movie.

Not only did we have to grope for our own places in the solid darkness, but these damn screamers appeared one after another, causing screams and screams from the freshmen. Moreover, each of them was accompanied by a musical accompaniment taken from nowhere!

And until we were able to successfully illuminate the office with our charms, new attempts to scare us did not stop. Even with one or two lumos, the room was still too dark, and it wasn't until a dozen students had learned the spell that this carnival of horrors finally ended.

How we understood which stroke to use, I don't even want to remember. And the laughter of Professor Flitwick, whose silhouette was four times larger in the dark, will now be my nightmares.

Then there was the history of magic, where there was no trace of yesterday's explosion. The classroom looked exactly the same as the last time we visited, and Professor Beans was still the same indifferent bore.

As I understand it, despite the apparent indifference of the ghostly professor, he notices every violation of discipline, and begins to get angry. This is reflected in the color of his aura, which slowly turns from blue to red.

We had already experienced the consequences of Beans' anger, so this time we did not dare to behave carelessly or defiantly. The lesson in complete silence was boring, but now at least I didn't have to pull some of my classmates out from under the rubble and lead them to the hospital wing.

But despite all the diligence of our discipline, by the end of the lesson, the professor already had those yellow grains on him, so as soon as the bell rang, we left the explosive office headlong.

— I wonder if Abbott will get in a lot of trouble for not being in class? Lavender Brown asked during lunch.

— Nothing has been seen or heard of her since breakfast. Maybe they put her in the hospital wing, and it's really some kind of curse," I suggested, "at least no one asks about her.

"Bones says she was fine this morning. It's all strange, however," Hermione expressed her opinion.

"You'd better tell me what's not weird here." By the way, well, we have to get acquainted with potions today, and the surprises will end with the main lessons," I rubbed my hands, "who expects what from Professor Snape?

"I wish he was like Lupin," Parvati murmured dreamily.

— Have you seen him? He wears all black, and his face is gloomy," Seamus shared, "besides, he is the dean of Slytherin. Do you remember Bletchley talking about the rumors about him?

"You never know what he was talking about," I replied, "he doesn't know anything himself, so he's making it up.

— And I think that the lesson will be at least informative. It's potion making! Riona O'Neal suddenly exclaimed, catching her classmates by surprise, "All these flasks, ingredients, cauldrons... She sighed dreamily, causing us to look at each other blankly.

— And it has to be something cool? Ron scratched the back of his head, "You're weird, you know?

"Everyone has their own hobbies, Ron, don't bother her," Hermione frowned.

After the events of Herbology, we really became more friends. I remained the unspoken leader who made the final decision and had the last word in any dispute. From my submission, we did not have outcasts, and let someone stand out from the rest, like Harry with his fame, Hermione with her knowledge and principles, or Seamus with his sociability, but the rest were also part of our company and had the right to vote.

Potions was one of the lessons that was described quite carefully in the canon and caused problems primarily for Gryffindors. Since Severus Snape existed here, I had serious concerns about the first double lesson. The uncertainty of what the professor might throw out naturally infuriated me, and the realization of my own helplessness in front of his every whim added even more oil to the fire, which made me nervous.

As soon as lunch was over, we, led by the Slytherins, headed to the left side of the dungeons for the first time. It's time to meet the professor of Potions.

***

Potions

The classroom turned out to be a cold and inhospitable place. Almost all the free space in the room was occupied by square workspaces, which contained various items for brewing potions: a large cauldron, a mechanical timer, a tripod for test tubes, a magic burner, a cutting board with a knife, a mortar, a large wooden spoon for stirring and miniature scales.

All the walls of the study were filled with various cabinets and shelves with books, ingredients and ready-made potions. The professor's desk was on a small elevation, so that, apparently, it was better to observe all the actions of the young potion makers.

"And again the professor is missing," Ron said warily, coming into the classroom, "it's not good.

Most of the students agreed with Weasley, and behaved cautiously, cautiously.

We sat down four people at each of the tables. Hermione sat down at my table, and then Dean and Seamus took the remaining seats, which caused Harry and Ron to take the next table, along with Neville and Faye, who joined them from lack of alternatives - four girls took the third table for Gryffindors, and Dunbar did not have enough space. Due to the absence of Hannah Abbott, there were just forty-eight of us, so we got a complete set for each workplace.

The ringing of the bell from the dungeons was very quiet, however, we successfully heard it. And right after him, footsteps were heard in the hallway:

"Clack, clack, clack, clack."

The door opened abruptly, letting in a stream of icy air and Severus Snape himself.

He was still dressed in the same way - all in black, with only a white collar peeking out at his neck. The professor's hairstyle was long and disheveled, and there was a frown and some kind of old-fashioned sadness in his eyes.

He waved his wand soundlessly, causing the front door to slam shut, walked to his teacher's seat, after which he abruptly turned around, looking at us with a suspicious look:

—And freshmen again," Snape spoke softly, but very insinuatingly, which made his every word clearly audible in every corner of the office, "open the books on page number three.

The first-year students stirred and fumbled, many took textbooks out of their bags only after the teacher's words, which Snape clearly did not like.

— No matter how much you are a herd of mindless fools, I'm not going to take time off from my own business to maintain order in the classroom. You are required to read the introductory chapter, remember the safety precautions when cooking potions and the processes involved in it. You have thirty minutes, absolute silence should be present here all this time," with these words, Snape repeated his first path in the opposite direction and left the office, slamming the door behind him.

No one expected the teacher to leave so soon, and for a while what was happening was perceived as some kind of joke or test. He didn't even get to know the people present and didn't recognize our names! However, the teacher, apparently, really decided to do more important things.

Shrugging my shoulders, I began to read the textbook, and the others followed my example.

The book told the basics of potions - what certain devices are needed for, what actions with the boiler are prohibited during cooking, what stages the process itself consists of.

For example, the potion could be stirred, ingredients could be added to the cauldron, and in some cases it was even necessary to know specific spells that would need to be pronounced at a certain moment before the potion with a magic wand. You can also remove the boiler from the fire and put it back on, clean the contents and fill it with the liquid required for cooking again with a spell. That, in fact, is all that can be done in potions - any other interaction with the boiler was highly discouraged.

As I read and realized all this, "absolute silence" became a more and more extensible concept. At first, sounds like "Ps-s" or "Hey" began to be made, but over time the children became bolder and occasionally began to whisper with their neighbors in the workplace, or even with other students.

No, there was no hubbub or real noise in any case, but here and there whispers and various fuss began to be heard periodically.

With each passing minute, the absence of a teacher made the children bolder and bolder. Some already dared to speak in an ordinary, albeit quiet, voice. After all, Snape's footsteps will be heard in advance upon his return, which means there should be no danger.

It was not easy for eleven-year-olds to spend thirty minutes in silence without outside supervision. Even the gloomy atmosphere at the end did not stop such sociable freshmen.

—Ps, Kyle,— Ron whispered to me from the next table, "do you know what condensate is?"

I shook my head and put my finger to my lips. Still, if a man like Snape said about the need for absolute silence, then there must be some reason for that, so I wasn't going to talk for those thirty minutes.

— Don't you know or don't want to talk? Aw, okay,— Ron waved his hand at me, "Hermione, do you know?

— Condensate is... — the girl could not stand it and began to engage in her favorite activity - education, speaking, like the others, in a whisper.

Seamus and Dean were also whispering about something, showing each other some pages of the handbook of magical plants and mushrooms, so I was the only one who took the professor's words so seriously.

I would not have been able to convince and prove something to others without the help of words. Moreover, it is quite possible that I was just being overly cautious.

The promised thirty minutes were coming to an end, and soon Snape's footsteps were heard approaching again.

— Well, well, well. I hope you heeded my words and spent this part of the lesson in silence. Let's move on to the list of those present... Hannah Abbott.

No one responded, so Snape scribbled something in the magazine, and moved on to the next student alphabetically...

When he met some freshmen, he asked questions about the chapter he had read, although I managed to avoid such a fate. However, if the child did not answer or answered incorrectly, there was no punishment - Snape simply took off one or two points, although he did not give points to those who answered correctly. A cheapskate.

When Harry Potter's name came out of his mouth, I thought that familiar motives would begin and even tried to remember those questions from the canon, just in case. It only dawned on me with the memory of the stone from the goat's stomach, but this was not really necessary. Snape held his gaze on the scar-headed boy, and just continued the roll call.

"My name is Professor Severus Snape," he said to us after the roll call, "and during these five years I will have to teach you the art of preparing potions and potions. I will not tolerate your clumsiness, pathological stupidity and excessive audacity, I warn you right away. So," he waved his wand, and a recipe for a potion appeared on the board in thick letters, "An ordinary boil potion, cabinets with ingredients over there," he pointed to the side, "the cooking time is sixty minutes. So we'll find out if there are any exceptions among you that are capable of anything. By the way, those who can make a potion are allowed to try it as well. Time has passed," Snape sat down at his desk and began to work, while we read the text on the blackboard.

"Why would we try a boil potion?" Dean asked us, puzzled.

I didn't quite get it either, but then I took a closer look at Seamus:

— What's the matter with you? — I pointed with my hands at his scattering of small red pimples, — there were none at the beginning of the lesson.

— What's in there? Seamus began to feel his face, "when they managed to appear... Oh, Dean, you too! He pointed to two small pimples on his friend's cheek.

"And you, Hermione. One, right on the eyebrows, — the girl got worried and also began to touch the spot of the pimple.

— Look at Ron! Seamus exclaimed.

The boy's entire freckled face was simply dotted with red dots. They were visible on the hands, on the back of the head, and on the neck of the Weasleys.

"Don't get distracted from your task," Snape said suddenly, "time is running out, and you just need it. Malfoy, Golden, Dunbar, five points each for completing the professor's assignments.

I looked at Faye, who didn't have any pimples, and neither did I. For completing the assignment... We didn't talk! And the students who were whispering and chatting grabbed pimples all over their bodies! Only that's why Ron got hurt so badly, and Seamus looked much more pimply than Dean or, even more so, Hermione... Yes, because they talked much more often and more! Maybe one word spoken is one pimple that has appeared? And the game, of course.

— So, — I rubbed my hands, attracting the attention of panicked neighbors in the workplace, — come on, let's get together, we need to brew a potion to make everything go away. Hermione, go to the ingredient drawer and get everything you need. You're slicing and pounding in a mortar. Seamus, you set a timer and monitor the moment when the next step is completed. Dean, you're weighing the required amount on the scale. I stir and add the ingredients, as well as follow the rest of the process. Let's get to work!

The guys did not argue and quickly started their tasks. I switched the burner with the boiler already filled with liquid on it to the normal mode. A blue flame lit up from below.

—Four dharmas of the main ingredient, Dean," I said, waiting for the boiling point.

The boy hastily untied the bag of dried herbs Hermione had brought, and, using tiny counterweights, measured out the right amount for me.

— Three clockwise stirring, — I voiced to myself, after which I took up a wooden spoon, — in two minutes and twenty seconds, throw in seven leaves of dried nettles. Seamus, mark it. Dean, prepare the necessary things in advance. Hermione, crush the snake's teeth, they're next," I gave out new instructions.

— Time! Seamus said at the end of the timer, and the nettle leaves went into the cauldron.

— Two counterclockwise stirrings... — the work was in full swing, and I was completely focused on it.

"They seem to be growing,— Hermione said nervously.

— Damn, it's true! Seamus felt his pimples, which had become natural boils by this point.

— The main thing is how long they will grow, — I made a disappointing conclusion.

Snape didn't seem to pay any attention to the students' actions all this time. Our four started work one of the first, and the others just kept up with us and tried to adopt our idea of sharing responsibilities. They did it with varying success.

— Five scrupulous crushed snake teeth, six minutes eight seconds!

— I've spotted it!

— ...Three live horned slugs!

— Ready!

With each stage of preparation, the boils became larger. They inflated the skin, and the epicenter of inflamed ulcers expanded, becoming a full-fledged circle from a small point.

Bam! At the next workplace, liquid splashed out of the boiler, and began to dissolve everything around.

— A-a-a-a-a! Neville shouted, as part of the boiling potion landed right on his face.

— Idiots! Snape barked, using his wand to remove all the liquid that had managed to corrode the cauldron and part of the table, as well as a large area of Longbottom's facial skin, "who thought of putting porcupine needles in the cauldron with the fire on!? Minus five points - Potter, Weasley, Longbottom, Dunbar. Remember, dummies, and especially you, Mr. Potter, that porcupine needles in a boiling potion lead to a violent reaction, which causes the potion to corrode everything around, including stupid students like you.

As soon as Snape finished his speech, Ron fell to the floor and began to suffocate - one of the boils on his neck grew so much that it began to block his airways. Weasley himself was plastered with huge round inflammations so much that the boy's face began to resemble some kind of monster spawned by Grandpa Nurgle.

—Professor, may I take Ron and Neville to the hospital wing?" A frightened Harry asked Snape.

— Lead on, Miss Dunbar will help you. Anyway, your potion is ruined, and for failing the task, I'm taking another ten points off you, Potter.

Harry nodded quickly, and led his two companions out with Faye. He was in a hurry, because Weasley could simply suffocate at any minute. And Potter himself had boils on him, which had become so large by this point that they slowed down any movement.

— How are you feeling? Can you finish the job? I asked my companions.

— I can do it... — said one-eyed Hermione - the girl's other eye just drowned in a huge purulent lump.

— To me... It's not good either," replied Seamus, who was already being pulled to the floor by a mass of overgrown pimples.

Dean felt more or less normal, even if the boy's swollen cheek pulled his head to the right side, which made him unable to maintain an even position for a long time.

— Come on, it won't be long. Hermione, you've finished cutting, haven't you? Get up for the timer, Dean, you'll take the ingredients yourself, she's cooked everything. Moreover, there are only two of them left...

Our potion finally came to an end, we took it off the fire and, five minutes later, finally added one porcupine needle.

—Well," Snape sniffed at our brew, "that's satisfactory. Two points each. The vials have a cooling charm.

The professor went to another table, and we hastily collected three vials of potion, after which Hermione, Seamus and Dean drank them, and the giant pimples began to disappear.

Not everyone is as lucky as we are. Two whole Hufflepuff tables got something wrong in the cooking stages, which is why the potion turned out to be spoiled. They got a beating from Snape, and the pimples remained on their bodies and faces.

— The lesson is over, at the next lesson I will seat you according to your abilities. You're free, and take your classmates out of here," he pointed at the badgers.

Eleven freshmen joined the hospital wing, so Snape never broke the record of the explosive ghost Beans. And yet his idea of acne was as vile and disgusting as possible, and I praised my own precaution, which helped me not to experience the nauseating range of feelings that almost all my classmates received.

And yet, the Potions lesson went off without casualties, and I think that was our main achievement.

***

By dinner time, most of the freshmen had been discharged from the hospital wing. Unlike Professor Snape's potion, Madam Pomfrey's methods did not just make the pimples disappear, but naturally squeezed them out, followed by the removal of excess skin. Because of this, eight badgers, as well as Harry and Ron, walked around covered in red circles all over their bodies.

Neville, because of the burn, was the only one who stayed in the hospital wing overnight.

While we were eating and leaving the next school day, the injured Hufflepuff came to our table.

— Could you help us? — the humble Susan Bones told us.

— With what? — I answered for everyone.

— With Hannah, my friend. We can't find her anywhere. She wasn't in the hospital wing, and she wasn't in the living room either. I'm afraid something has happened to her.

— What do you think? Will we help you? I asked the other cubs.

— Of course we will help! Hermione exclaimed.

"Don't forget," Dean said, "it's less than two hours before lights out. I don't want to get into trouble with the search. And if we lose someone else?

— Please! We have no one else to turn to," tears welled up in Susan's eyes, "the teachers sent us to look for her ourselves, and the seniors ignore us.

—Okay, okay," I said soothingly, "we'll help you find her." We'll split up into groups, and each one will check one of the floors. You must understand," I said to the Hufflepuff, "that if she stays in one of the closed rooms, then there's nothing we can do.

— We understand... Thank you.

"Tell me, Susan, when did the weirdness start happening to her?" What exactly happened this morning? I began to question her.

— Everything was fine. We woke up, talked, and packed up for lessons... Then we got ready for breakfast and went to the Great Hall. In the bedroom, Hannah was the same as always, but on the way she had already become strange.

— Have you been everywhere together? All the time from the moment you wake up to leaving the living room?

— Well, yes... Not really, but almost all the time. She stayed in the restrooms, and I was waiting for her at the exit.

— I see... Then let's start going around the castle.

That's how the search for the girl Hannah began. I tried to cooperate with the students in such a way as to comb through all available places and passages of Hogwarts as soon as possible, but at the same time not to separate the children too much, leaving at least three people in each group.

The search was successful after an hour and a half.

— I found her! She's on the stairs, on the sixth floor! Wayne Hopkins shouted to us from above, out of breath, "over here!"

All the groups that heard his news rushed to the sixth floor, and I was among them.

Hannah Abbott was standing on the railing of one of the flights. Her arms were raised horizontally, and the girl was looking straight down with obvious intentions.

— Hannah? — I stopped the rest of the crowd of children with a gesture, came forward and began to approach her with small steps, — why did you get in there? Come on, get off, don't be silly.

When she turned around and looked at me with tear-stained eyes, I stopped.

— Oh, it's you, handsome... I'm just really, oh, very sad-oh," the girl wiped away the next tears that came out and looked at the lower floors again.

"Oh, really. Why are you sad? Don't lose your temper, Hannah, you're strong, you can handle all the difficulties..." with each word I got closer and closer, "the main thing is, don't jump, okay? It's possible to solve everything differently, let me cheer you up? — one more step, two more steps...

— But I want to fly! And what do you call me.... — with a leap I rushed to the girl, and with a jerk threw her off the railing onto the stairs themselves.

— Hold her down! Come on! I shouted to the others, trying to fix the girl's position. However, she resisted it so fiercely that I almost broke her arm in the process.

— I want summer-oh! I WANT SUMMER! Hannah screamed and squirmed, even when she was pinned down by five students.

— Hannah! What's wrong with you? Why are you acting like this? — I tried to shout to Susan's friend.

—Stand back," I said to the girl, "it's probably not really Hannah, so your questions are pointless."

— I mean, not really Hannah...

Hannah Abbott's delay in the morning in the restrooms, where those washbasins are... She called me handsome, and I've only heard that expression from one creature... From the spirit of the school, from that mirror.

— We need to check it out. Take her to the living room of the Hufflepuff, and just make sure that she doesn't break out and jump down.

With difficulty, but we were able to get to a bunch of large oak barrels, which were a disguised door to the abode of badgers.

—Open up, well!" I said to the indecisive Hufflepuffers, which finally caused them to die off and knock on the barrels in the correct order. Part of them parted, and a passage opened, — we are taking her to the washbasins!

The senior students of Hufflepuff watched our procession with all sorts of emotions, but, as usual, no one approached us and they were all just observers.

I quickly went around the mirrors in the washroom, looking for at least some hints, and, oddly enough, I found it. There was a clear imprint of a child's palm on one of the mirrors. I tried to erase it, but it didn't work out. This is it!

— Get her in here! — a group of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff boys were carrying a raging girl to the glass.

— no! Handsome, don't n-need to-oh...

— Give her your hand, and hold it tight, — I forcefully straightened the phalanges of the girl's fingers, and brought her open palm to the mirror. I fiddled a little more to make the location match the print. And...

The very spirit of the school appeared in the mirror under the guise of Hannah, who soon disappeared, and the real girl stopped twitching.

— What... What happened? Let me go! What are you holding me for? — Hannah came to her senses and was very nervous to find herself in the bathroom with a bunch of boys.

— Hannah? It's you? Are you okay? Bones made her way through the crowd of freshmen to her friend.

— Sue! What are they all doing here? And why are most of you in some kind of red spots?

"You don't remember anything?"

Hannah shook her head in disbelief.

"Well," I scratched my head, "we've done our job. Gryffindor, let's go out, we still have to get to the living room before lights out. And, this applies to everyone - do not listen to your own reflections in the mirrors!