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After a brief gathering, the champions and their hostages, in a separate company and accompanied by their headmasters and Madam Pomfrey, went to the castle. Some of them were still wet, but even Hermione didn't try to be kind and dry, yawning frantically - it was her time to go to bed. That's exactly what I suggested to her.
"No," the girl shook her head. "I'd rather now take an invigorating potion and hold out until the evening than start throwing off my regime with a daytime nap."
"As you wish."
Together with the champions, we made our way to the hospital wing, where Madame Pomfrey and her colleagues examined everyone more thoroughly. They gave potions to those in need, and to the delight of all involved, no one needed to stay for treatment, for as even the foreign guests learned, no one had yet left our hospital wing sick.
After the safe rescue of all the "abductees," a fairly good feast was held. Something in between a Sunday feast, when the food was somewhat more varied, and a holiday feast, when it was absolutely impossible to eat everything. However, the good mood of the students was spoiled by the announcement that the remaining classes were not canceled, and after such a pleasant lunch, everyone went to class. I was no exception, going down to the Chamber of Secrets.
Delphine was, as always, sitting at her desk, making some kind of tables and charts.
"You did well," Lady Greengrass praised me as soon as I entered the tent. "Although, from my point of view, the task was quite simple. What do you think?"
"I think," I smiled, taking a seat at my table. "If I didn't have some specific knowledge, I'd have to swallow gillyweed like Potter. It's better than a bubble-head charm and incomplete body transfiguration. So you can swim normally and breathe freely, and your vision becomes suitable for the aquatic environment."
"That's true," nodded Delphine. "I wonder who advised him such a remedy?"
"Neville Longbottom, I think. He's very good with plants, loves them, has an encyclopedic knowledge of herbology. All in all, if anyone could have advised Potter, it's him."
"Perhaps. Or maybe someone pushed him on this idea. Slipped him a new, fascinating book or showed him something interesting. You don't go to class, and you don't know how the teachers deftly adjust the program, trying to provide useful material for the participants."
"Maybe. Everyone except Snape. He's just trying to get rid of all the students."
"Everyone has their own methods. Perhaps Severus wants to develop increased stress resistance because the Potions Master should not be distracted by anything, even if Avada's are flying around his temple."
As I began to sort through the books and notes on my desk, I asked the obvious question:
"What's the next training program?"
"Has anything changed? Transfiguration, Max. Transfiguration. I'll give you an exam at the end of the year and see how far you get in that discipline."
"And then?"
"Healing magic with anatomy and physiology. Yes, yes, I know not only words like that, but subjects as well. Forty years ago, the Guild of Healing Magic decreed the compulsory study of Muggle medical disciplines due to their progress. Now, by the way, there will be a conference in Venezuela on the Magical Interpretation of the Human Genome and other magical creatures. So I won't be here from the first to the tenth of March."
"Oh, there will be something interesting for sure. Can I go with you?"
"No, unfortunately. Certified healers and practitioners of healing magic and chimerology, above the rank of Senior Apprentice, are allowed in there."
"Senior?"
"It's for those who do not shine with talent but take perseverance, wasting time. You have to encourage them to keep going, so they invented ranks within the ranks. Exams, practice, nothing much new."
"Um..."
"Don't worry. You can rest with Hermione. Especially since there will be an unscheduled trip to Hogsmeade. There will be more in the rest of the semester."
"By the way, can I ask about Potter and his scar?"
"You can try."
"Ahem... not used to being spoken to in my own manner."
Delphine only smiled.
"So what's up with the scar and the Horcruxes?"
"I wouldn't want you to know about such things, but since you happen to be privy to..."
Delphine leaned back in her chair, folding her hands together.
"It was surprising to learn that young Mr. Potter is a Horcrux, but not a full-fledged one. It's a shame that the headmaster doesn't have normal familiar necromancers due to his reputation."
"And you?"
"We only did each other minor favors. It's a common practice in the magical world, so you should get used to it. Anyway, only Harry's forehead is a Horcrux from a physical standpoint. Had the headmaster been able to consult a wizard versed in these matters in time, a section of skin and some bone could have been removed, restored with potions, and the boy would have been completely healthy. At this point, however, a strong bond had formed between Harry's soul and Voldemort's shard. Now, on the one hand, young Mr. Potter is not a Horcrux, but on the other, he is, and it is impossible to rid him of this affliction without substantial harm or death."
"I see. An unenviable fate."
"Nevertheless," Delphine leaned forward, beginning to go through the books on her desk. "I'll look for ways, of course, for a reason. You see, in such a connection of souls, there is no clear dividing line between one and the other, and therefore it simply cannot be cut off. The ideal way is for the shard owner to personally remove it from the body, and only Avada is capable of this. In this case, the attitude of Harry himself is important. If he disagrees with the death, this disagreement will be transmitted to the shard, and then either they both die, or only Potter dies. Consent works the same way. Potter sort of agrees and accepts death, and this is transmitted to the shard. However, Avada can only knock one soul out of the body. The shard, like the soul, has its own mind and body, and the spell is simple and unpretentious, indecipherable. The task of Avada is to dislodge the soul from the body, cutting off the ways back. That's exactly what's going to happen to the shard because it's, like, outside Potter."
Toss a stone to your autor
O' Valley of Plenty
O' Valley of Plenty, oh
Toss a stone to your autor
O' Valley of Plenty