Chapter 6. Loyalty

— Will it definitely work? Harry asked me, looking at my orange coupon at the table in the Great Hall.

— Filch said to do it, so it should work, — I shrugged my shoulders.

— And when is it better to tear it up? Now, before the food arrives, or at nine o'clock sharp? Hermione asked.

— Is there a difference? Come on now, even if the food arrives earlier than the others, it's okay.

— Damn, will there be a lot of it? I'm so hungry... Ron clutched at his rumbling stomach.

— Say thank you that Kyle took on everyone, for his points, by the way, — Seamus reproached Ron's insatiability.

—Yeah, thanks, Kyle, you're a real friend," Ron blushed.

I brought the coupon to the center of the table, and carefully tore it into two parts. The paper was showered with pollen on the table, but there was no food.

— It didn't work!? Ron panicked.

— No, we just have to wait, — I was not sure of my words myself, but I hoped for the best.

— Maybe Filch tricked you? Harry suggested.

— And the books? And the seniors? Everything should work, and what's the point of him cheating... Calm down, and let's just silently wait for breakfast to begin.

The Gryffindors were visibly nervous. Of course, they had been eating some rubbish all day yesterday, which seemed to make them want to eat more than ever. When I told them yesterday about what I had learned and about my big gesture, my classmates fully appreciated it. Well, now they were afraid to miss the opportunity to fill their bellies, so they were stressed.

The large hall was slowly filling up with people - we came too early after all. Here, there was one professor at the teachers' table, here, the second one came...

Time passed very slowly at such moments.

—Ron, stop banging the spoon on the table, you're making me nervous," I said irritably.

— Well, when already... Seamus grumbled.

Bam! Food appeared on the tables. As yesterday, there was the lowest quality breakfast everywhere, the situation was a little better at the ravens' table, but ours...

— Wow!

— That's cool!

— And I had no doubt that everything would work out! Ron shouted happily, eliciting chuckles from the others.

Our table was just bursting with food. What was not there: scrambled eggs with onions, omelette with mushrooms, pancakes, chocolate pancakes, cheesecakes, oatmeal porridge with bananas, several types of toast, vanilla waffles, muesli in milk, syrups, carafes with various fresh fruits and fruit drinks... I sincerely believe that if they have breakfast in paradise at all, it's only this way.

— So, guys, we don't touch toasts, cheesecakes and waffles - we'll take them with us and eat them at lunch, — I gave out small instructions, — fly into the rest!

Jaws actively moved, teeth cracked, and moans of pleasure sounded. It took us just one day to start considering delicious food as the most magical thing in the school of magic.

Everyone else looked at us with envy, and the upperclassmen also looked at us with serious surprise:

— Where did they get the points? It's only been a day!

— So fast? First of all, of course, they give.

— Don't pay attention, — I said, after chewing on a portion of the omelet, — the points were earned honestly, which means we are in our right.

—Kyle," said Hermione, "are you, well, going to tell the other faculties about the scores?" I understand everything, but it doesn't seem fair. We know, but they don't.

— Yes, I was just thinking of telling them today, anyway, we will not turn away from the questions where we got so much food. But now expect healthy competition for every point awarded by teachers. They turned out to be worth their weight in gold here.

"It's still not clear exactly what they're being given for," Dean muttered, "and if it's just for single correct answers or for merit, like Kyle's, then we're screwed." You can't earn so much money to equip your bedroom, and eat like a human being, and save up for access to the same library.

— Don't despair, Dean, and don't spoil the mood at such a moment, — I patted him on the shoulder, — we haven't been to more than half of the lessons to draw such conclusions. Moreover, I am sure that there are many ways to earn these points, we just haven't figured them out yet.

The divine breakfast was over - we stuffed our bellies to the brim, stuffed bundles of food into bags, and, happy, leisurely went to our first magic story.

***

The History of Magic

— ...And don't forget who told you all this," I looked around at the semicircle of Slytherins, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw around me.

"We'll settle up,— one of the snakes nodded.

— Kyle, do you know why we've been eating better than the others since the beginning of the year? Anthony Goldstein asked on behalf of the Ravens.

— I have two theories: either personal points from previous years of study are saved, and your senior courses have accumulated immediately for the first stage of improving the feeding in the Great Hall for themselves, or this is a reward for some merit - for example, for winning a competition between faculties. As I understand it, when we receive points, they become not only personal funds, but also fall into the general faculty hourglass, which we found behind the stairs in the lobby. Points will not be deducted from there if someone spends them, and at the end of the year, the faculty with the most points becomes the winner, receiving various privileges. Think for yourself which theory is most likely.

A thoughtful delegation of freshmen entered the magic history room and began to take their seats. It has already become a habit to occupy the row where your faculty sat in previous lessons. The only difference was that students could switch places with each other, alternate their desk neighbors and change the distance from the teacher's desk depending on their preferences and concerns.

The professor turned out to be... A ghost. For some reason, I thought that the very idea of assigning a teacher to bring one of the rather important subjects was inherently absurd. And in the real world, I was waiting for someone else for this role, having suffered a fiasco of my own expectations.

Binns turned out to be a long-bearded old man with a wrinkled, pale face and stiffened hands. He was dressed in the same ghostly faded cloak.

The professor was just a little translucent and was surrounded by a bluish glow, and his feet were very low, but still hovered above the surface of the floor, so that it was impossible to mistake the teacher for a living person even by mistake.

— Pe-y-y-y-urs, — Binns began to speak from his desk, as soon as the sound of a bell was heard from the corridor, — the first uro-ok, - he tediously stretched the words, and it was difficult to perceive such speech. It's like listening to a voice in a recording, slowed down by one and a half, or even twice.

— The topic is the morning, the morning of the first magicians of their society...

"Professor Beans," Hermione raised her hand, "do we need to write this down?"

The ghost did not falter for a second in his long speech, as if he had not heard Hermione's words.

— Professor Beans? — zero reaction. There were chuckles in the classroom from such a funny disregard on the part of the teacher.

— Professor Beans, can I go to the bathroom? Theodore Nott from Slytherin asked with a smile, not forgetting to raise his hand just in case. He did not answer him either, continuing to tell his dreary lecture about the first magical communities in different parts of the world.

— Well, silence is a sign of agreement, right? — the boy stood up, and, watching the teacher, gradually backed away towards the exit. When there was no reaction, he left the office laughing.

— He doesn't pay attention to us at all! — said Seamus, delighted, — I feel that the history of magic will become my favorite subject.

There was excitement and joy in the classroom from such freebies. Gradually, over the hubbub of voices, the teacher's lecture ceased to be heard at all. And Beans didn't seem to care about that.

Did we really get carried away, and at least one lesson here will be abnormal in some sense, but safe? Without tricks and other things?

When the professor suddenly got up and sailed straight across his desk, the children fell silent and were scared, waiting for payback for their behavior. However, everything turned out to be harmless enough - just after finishing the introductory part of his monologue, Beans began to hover between the rows of desks, continuing the lecture and still not paying attention to anything.

After a few minutes, the students exhaled, and continued to have fun, talk and mess around. Some of them, including the Gryffindors, looked at me at first.

And if they thought that I would start calming everyone down again and instructing them on the "right path", then they were disappointed. Then I did my trick for the sake of McGonagall's approval and extra points, and now I would just look stupid and arrogant.

I started talking to Hermione about it myself, getting into a little skirmish:

"Hermione, you're a student just like everyone else. If they want to talk, let them talk.

— But you interfered with transfiguration! How is this different? — she gave her "crowning" argument.

— Because then I could get punished by the professor along with everyone else. And here the teacher himself is not against this bedlam, which means that nothing threatens me, which in turn means that I have no right to tell my classmates how to behave. And you, too, by the way. Everyone has their own head on their shoulders, remember that.

The girl frowned and stared at a book on the history of magic:

— I couldn't even hear the lecture because of them. And the professor, by the way, tells details that are not in the textbook.

— Well, now he is closer, and his words can be easily understood, right? So it's all right now," I stretched out on a chair, intending to take a nap on a full stomach.

The other students heard fragments of our argument, and obviously thought I was right in my position, which added extra points of respect to me in their eyes. The transfiguration incident, where I showed myself to be a kind of law enforcement officer, was, in my opinion, completely exhausted.

Lesson time was passing, and everyone was doing their own thing. Of all the students, only Hermione wrote down some individual phrases of Binns. The rest, if they held enchanted pens in their hands, it was exclusively for drawing on rough parchments.

With a bored look, I looked at the office, at the students, at the professor... And it seemed to me that Beans had somehow changed. That blue glow surrounding the ghost had dimmed down to a pale gray color.

I became interested in such metamorphoses, so I began to watch the teacher intently. And just a few minutes later, new, rather active changes began to happen to him.

At first, small, barely noticeable grains of yellow appeared on its ghostly shell. The grains grew, the yellow turned into orange. And just ten seconds later, instead of grains, Beans was already surrounded by natural bursts of energy, which began to rapidly turn red.

— Guys, — I tried to attract the attention of the others, suspecting something was wrong. Some of them heard me, someone noticed the same thing on their own as I did, but most of the students turned out to be too involved in their own affairs.

Although, even if everything were different, they would hardly have had time to do anything.

Professor Beans was floating in the center of the hall at the back desks, and was about to make another turn in another row, when his changes reached a climax.

The red flashes began to look like flames, and the ghost's face distorted into a terrible grimace of a dead man. The children screamed, the first desks looked around, and Beans opened his mouth unnaturally wide:

— DON'T-YELL-I-DO-OK! He shouted in a sepulchral voice, and it was accompanied by a terrifying shockwave of red energy all around.

The last desks were literally swept away along with the chairs and the students sitting on them. They hit the walls of the office, mixed their debris with the victims on the cracked floor throughout the classroom.

The seats in the middle also felt a significant impact, falling from their seats along with the standing furniture. Well, the first ones got off with a slight fright.

I shook my head, regaining consciousness. I examined my body - arms, legs are intact, wounds are not noticeable, my left elbow hurts, but not much. I got out from under the fallen desk, and saw the chaos that was happening in the office.

Classmates were lying in the rubble near the side walls: someone was lying unconscious, someone was screaming in pain or calling for help.

— Kyle! — a nearby Seamus noticed me, — help me, I think I broke my leg.

I helped my friend up, put his hand on the back of my head and helped him get to the exit - the explosion in the office formed a whole column of dust and small crumbs, which was difficult to breathe.

When I returned to the office, I saw my classmates - unharmed, in a state of shock, and the wounded, who needed urgent help. Besides them, in the epicenter of that explosion was the same Professor Beans, who was again surrounded by a blue glow. He was indifferent to all the chaos happening around him, and he continued to teach his lesson with the same dull intonation:

— Ke-eltski-ee other people are considered to be the parents of the parents...

— Okay, listen to me! I shouted, after which I coughed from a sharp tickle in my throat, "if you are injured but able to move independently, go to the exit and wait there. If you are unharmed, then help those who are passed out or seriously injured to get out of the wreckage and leave the office. As soon as we are in the corridor, we will all move together to the hospital wing. Hurry up! Our comrades need help! — by my own example, I picked up a piece of a wooden desk, behind which the unconscious body of Daphne Greengrass was found, after which I picked her up and carried her to the door.

Not immediately, but almost all the unharmed classmates eventually came to their senses, after which they began to help the victims. The farthest desks suffered the most, and especially our Lavender Brown and ravenclaw Sue Lee. The girls were sitting closest to the place of the ghostly detonation of the teacher, which broke several bones, and most likely had internal injuries. They had to be delivered to Madam Pomfrey immediately.

I was the last to leave the classroom -I made sure that no one else was left under the rubble. Before leading my classmates towards the hospital wing, I turned around for the last time.

There were changes in the classroom: the ruined furniture, as if under the influence of the "Reparo" spell, repaired itself and fell into its own places, cracks on the floor overgrown, knocked crumbs from the walls jumped back into tiny recesses. Professor Beans, even in the absence of students, walked between the rebuilding rows and mumbled something about druidic conflicts.

"A safe lesson, yeah," I muttered angrily to myself and closed the door behind me.

***

Herbology

—Come on in, guys, have a seat," a burly woman in a huge swamp—colored hat greeted us.

It was the first time we passed through the courtyard of Hogwarts. The weather outside was bright and warm, which contrasted sharply with our condition. Dirty and crippled, we left the castle walls for the first time and breathed fresh air on the way to a new lesson.

The Herbology room was adjacent to the greenhouses of the castle, and the room itself was replete with plants. They were everywhere: vines entwined the floor, walls and ceiling, on every piece of free space there was another pot with a certain flora, and even cabinets with tables were entwined with a barely noticeable tiny vine.

— How dirty you are... Well, never mind, I'll clean you up now," Professor Sprout began to wave her wand in turn in front of each incoming student, using the spell "Evanesco".

Our school uniforms became perfectly clean, and our hands and face finally got rid of the remaining dirt. If only minor abrasions, cuts and bruises could be cured - it would be absolutely wonderful.

When we brought the wounded classmates to the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey fussed, and with her methods quickly divided the students into two camps: those who need her qualified help, and those who are healthy enough not to contact her. The second, as you might guess, had to go to finish the history of magic, after which they hurried to a new lesson.

— So, why are there so few of you here? — Pomona Sprout frowned, — are there truants in your team?

—Professor Sprout,— Hermione hastened to explain, overtaking the others in this, "the fact is that there was an explosion in the history of magic lesson, and some students are now in serious condition in the hospital wing...

I had not expected any compassion from the teachers for a long time, but Pomona Sprout, with her innocent face of a kind old woman and ostentatious concern for our appearance, lit a spark of similar hope among other students. However, it went out pretty quickly:

— Oh, to bring poor Professor Beans to the very first lesson, ai-yai-yai, — she waved her thick ugly finger at the students, — So you're building a bully course? Please note, this will not work in my lessons!

—No, you're not," Hermione stammered, stunned, "we're not at all...

— Enough talking, — Sprout interrupted her stream of excuses, — sit down, the lesson will begin soon.

We sat down in the usual order between the faculties, and many desks turned out to be empty. Twelve people were left with various injuries in the hospital wing, and only three of them joined us during recess.

The professor, while we were taking our seats, conjured a shining material patronus in the shape of a frog, whispered something to him, after which he jumped away, disappearing into the wall of the office.

To whom, I wonder, did she decide to send a message so urgently? And what was the content in it? Of course, I won't get any answers to this.

— Hello, freshmen! — the professor smiled at us as if she hadn't called us bullies just five minutes ago, - my name is Professor Pomona Sprout, and I will teach you Herbology — the science of magical plants. You will have to learn how to grow a variety of their species, find your own approach to them... Maybe you can even get your green friend and comrade here, who knows... When dealing with plants, I always have an important piece of advice for novice wizards that you would do well to know by heart. It sounds like this: plants feel your emotions. Show your sincere affection and care, and then the plant will reach out to you. Repeat the main point, Miss Granger.

— Plants feel our emotions. Show it...

— That's enough, that's enough. Good. Mr. Malfoy, say that again.

"Plants feel our emotions," Draco said monotonously, standing up from his seat.

— great. And finally, Mr. Potter.

"Plants, uh, feel our emotions," Harry stammered a little, but the professor didn't pay attention to it.

— That's right. Remember these words, my dears. So, our first lesson will be about species...

Professor Sprout told us in a fascinating and knowledgeable way about the plan for the year, about the plants that we will study and about the lessons where we will have to grow these very plants in the greenhouses themselves. The lesson was harmless enough, compared to others, for sure - discipline was observed, the professor revealed our initial knowledge of his subject, which many lacked.

Neville, who sat at the front desk in the history of magic and was not hurt at all, quickly showed his passion for magical flora and showed extensive knowledge of the subject, for which he even received ten points from Sprout, thereby getting out of the offensive minus.

But what subject in this school is complete without a surprise? Here, too, a fairly comfortable classroom environment was interrupted by a knock on the door somewhere in the middle of the first lesson.

— Come in.

A limping Seamus Finigan, a pale Daphne Greengrass, a frowning Michael Corner from Ravenclaw and Megan Jones from Hufflepuff entered the office.

"Professor," Michael said for everyone, "can I join the lesson?"

— Why are you late, young people!? Did Professor McGonagall misunderstandingly explain to you about the inadmissibility of such a thing!? — Professor Sprout turned from a good-natured teacher in some incredible way into an evil quarrelsome old woman.

"But we were in the hospital wing, and as soon as Madam Pomfrey let us go...

— You got into the hospital wing because of your own irresponsibility! And if you show up for class after half of the first lesson, you deserve to be punished. Come here, stand at my desk.

— But, Professor... Hermione asked.

"Did I give you permission to say anything, Miss Granger?" Or did she ask you something? Minus five points to Gryffindor for shouting from the spot.

Hermione blushed and almost cried with resentment. Points were not an empty word for her initially, and when she found out about their true value, such a loss became a serious blow to the girl.

Phenomenally, even because of all those violent events in the classroom, she was less worried than she is now because of the five points. Something in her coordinate system was clearly broken.

Meanwhile, four frightened late-arriving students stood in front of the teacher's desk, trembling, waiting for their punishment.

"Roll up the sleeves of your left arm and place it on the table so that the hand hangs down," Sprout ordered the guilty.

The children performed the required tasks with trembling movements. Professor Sprout plunged into one of the cupboards, and took out a large pair of garden shears.

—P-p-Professor Sprout,— said a terrified Megan Jones, "w—what are you going to do?"

—To carry out the punishment, what else, my dear," she replied dispassionately, "so that from now on you all will understand the consequences of being late, I will cut off all of you the left hand.

What will she do!? Isn't that too much? Even for such a Hogwarts, cutting off a hand for being late is something beyond the line!

A panic of quiet terror rose in the classroom. The punished children trembled more than ever, and their faces expressed absolute fear.

— And m-m-maybe it's n-n-not necessary? — it seemed that poor Megan was going to faint.

— Professor, can we make do with a warning for the first time? — Daphne often said, - I can write to my father, we will solve this issue in a different way...

"Your father has no control here, Miss Greengrass," Sprout replied, "and your pleas and entreaties will not atone for what you have done.

— Really... Is there nothing you can do? Seamus asked dejectedly, looking at his bare arm lying on the table.

Pomona Sprout stopped next to the punished, and the scissors in her hand periodically clicked, making a nasty squeaky sound.

— An interesting question. I think it's possible," hope awoke in the children from the professor's words, "if you are really decent students and all this is just an unfortunate accident, then... Others will confirm this, right?

They nodded shallowly, and the teacher turned to us:

— Is it true? Are these students behaving well? Are they keeping up appearances? The rules?

— Yes, of course.

"They do, yes,— the freshmen at their desks answered.

— great. In that case, I will, so be it, provide an opportunity to soften my verdict. If there are four volunteers among your classmates who agree to share the punishment with you, I will cut off only one finger for each of the five to choose from. A smaller number will be collected, and everything will remain the same.

Everyone stared at the professor in shock. And this is a commutation of punishment!?

Meanwhile, the perpetrators looked at the ranks of their classmates with tears in their eyes and pleading in their eyes.

Some kind of tin. It's too cruel. To volunteer? Losing a finger helping a boy you've only known for a couple of days!?

I looked at the fingers of my trembling hands. The look of the once cheerful and sociable, but now lost and broken Seamus knocked me out of my rut.

Will I be able to volunteer? Will any of these children be able to? Am I ready to lose something irrevocably for the sake of a friend?

Is it irrevocable? Maybe Madam Pomfrey can sew it back on? It doesn't seem that difficult, considering the use of magic. The main thing is not to bring the condition of the finger to tissue necrosis, and to obtain the consent of the healer...

Damn, it's so hard to decide...

— Well, are there any freshmen among those who will stand up for their friends and comrades? You have a minute to think," the professor, judging by her face, was doing her usual thing on a very ordinary Tuesday, "and I warn you right away, do not think that you will be able to put your fingers back in place in the hospital wing. That's not going to happen.

Is she reading my mind? Or is it just such an obvious guess that the professor got to her herself...

— Please, we're from Hufflepuff! Megan shouted to her faculty.

The badger girls were crying, and some of the boys were crying too, but none of them volunteered. And this is a faculty famous for its friendship and solidarity. What about the others?

— As I see it, no one decides. Apparently, the four of you are still not as worthy students as you wanted to seem.

To hell with everything. Yes, I'm going to lose a finger. But Seamus will remember this action. Forever. And when I need something like that, he won't leave me in trouble, he's not that kind of person.

— I volunteer, — my legs obeyed weakly, but I found the moral strength to get up from the table, - I stand up for Seamus Finigan, — under deafening silence, I went to the professor's workplace and stood next to a friend.

—Mr. Golden, commendable bravery for Gryffindor. Well, someone else? Don't forget, there are four of you.

I looked at the row of lion cubs that were rushing before such a difficult choice. And yet my decision pushed the others:

"I'm volunteering,— Harry said, awkwardly getting up from his seat.

"And me," Ron went after his friend.

— I'm you too... — Hermione sobbed, — I volunteer, — with tears in her eyes, she joined us.

— Gryffindor chose to share the punishment. So be it," the professor announced, "are there any more volunteers for the rest of the punished?

— Guys, please! You will be paid two hundred, no, five hundred galleons! Daphne cried, crying. No one responded to her pleas.

Michael frowned at his fellow students, who were averting their gaze. Megan naturally roared, and almost the entire female part of the students echoed her.

— Time's up. Now...

— I'm volunteering! I volunteer to do good...A volunteer," a boy squeaked from a row of badgers, after which he stumbled to the professor's desk. His face expressed determination, but his body was shaking violently.

— Jerry Puff, great. Maybe my faculty has more applicants?

No one followed the example of the brave badger.

— There are no more applicants. Now it's the turn of punishment.

At such a crucial moment, for some reason I wondered if Jerry would get hurt, even if he volunteered alone from the Hufflepuff. Would he lose two fingers and Megan three? Or will he be sent back? Bad thoughts, however, come to mind at the most inopportune time.

Meanwhile, Professor Sprout was in no hurry to use her scissors for their intended purpose. And something started happening at the desks of the remaining students.

The vines on the floor came to life, moved and began to entwine the legs of the sitting freshmen. Jungle plants began to descend from the ceiling, tightening garrotes around the necks of panicked children.

"In this castle full of trials," Sprout suddenly began to speak, "during the most difficult year of your studies. Being without knowledge, without help from adults, being exposed to various dangers... You have only yourself, and classmates like you. And by your cowardice, by your selfishness, you, who abandoned your comrades, let yourself down first of all, — with each word of the professor, the creatures of the green hell entangled the students more and more, suffocating them and lifting them into the air. The children floundered on the weight, tried to push the vines away from their throats for a sigh, but all their attempts were in vain.

It was... Checking!? That was a test!? For loyalty to your comrades? For sacrifice? What is going on in this old woman's head anyway!?

— I will not tolerate such a thing from now on. Your course is one common team. Your faculty of this course is a family. You will die here alone, you know that. Minus five points from everyone who was scared and did not dare to volunteer! — with this phrase, the vines instantly weakened and returned to their places, and the freshmen fell down, hitting desks, chairs and the floor painfully. Each of the students was gasping loudly and intermittently, and there were dark strangulation marks on their necks.

— Now to the five of you who are not afraid of pain and hardship, — Sprout turned to our Gryffindor company and the lonely daredevil Jerry, — Know that I am proud of such students. Each of you gets twenty points for showing bravery and protecting your classmates. Sit down in your seats, you too," she pointed to those who were guilty of being late, "there will be no punishment.

A whole cocktail of emotions was raging inside, and I didn't even know how to relate to such methods of the professor. But the fact that the "good old lady" Sprout is as crazy as all the other Hogwarts teachers, I have learned forever.