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Emotions are the ability of people to express their attitude towards something. They can depend on everything you can imagine. From hormones, the situation or whatever, but this is so important. What matters is how people react, emotionally, to something.

How do they degenerate? According to three criteria: a complex of gestures and facial expressions (smile, unequal tics, etc.), a person's attitude towards something (after all, it often happens that when a person experiences a storm of emotions during any process, for example, sex or the use of magic ( and no, this is not the same thing) a person changes his attitude towards him. This is like a person saying that he does not need sexual intercourse, although he himself did not participate in it (although there are those who are actually not very interested in it) ), as well as various processes in the body ("butterflies in the stomach" from excitement, "electric shock" from a river of emotion, as well as indigestion due to nervousness). This is how you can determine a person's emotions without any empathy.

On average, emotions are divided into six types: positive, negative, neutral, unconventional, dynamic, and static. Just by the names you can understand what they hide behind themselves.

So where am I going with this? And besides, such a long time (for you, maybe yes, but for me not even a second has passed. Mentality rules). Everything is banal and simple. What emotions do children experience in an unclear situation? And how do I feel this (that is, how does empathy work)?

I'll start with the second one. As soon as I received this gift, the question arose: how does it work? I began to search for an answer to this question with special zeal, but alas, until October of this year, I could not achieve anything. However, in early October I finally found the answer in one of the volumes devoted to mentalism.

The first thing you need to understand is that mentalism is divided into two types: ordinary (mine) and magical. What is the difference? Everything here is the same as in mentalism. The first option works on psi, and the second only when using magic and psi. Which of the two types is better? Of course it's "natural", because it "works" without any crutches. If the second type is deprived of magic, then it stops "perceiving" emotions, simply switching off.

How does it work? And it's different for everyone. Someone perceives the "vibrations" that the soul emits when experiencing certain emotions. Someone is "scanning" the mental shell (well, it's not really scanning, it's just how the empant perceives his gift). There are also more banal options: see, hear, smell. Yes, there are such types of empathy. Don't forget about mixed feelings.

How do I perceive emotions? Hell, I know, it's just that at a certain moment I realize what this or that person is experiencing. Maybe I'm "hearing", or maybe they're scanning me. I don't know this yet, but one thing I know for sure: sooner or later, I will find the answer.

Finally, with this whole lecture behind me, I can come to the topic of children's emotions in our situation.

The whole crowd was divided into three camps. The first one was simply afraid and the degree of their fear was very different. From banal fear to horror (although I couldn't find the source of the latter, but it was somewhere in the crowd of badgers).

The second camp looked at Potter with anger. Explain to me how you can, without understanding everything, transfer your anger to one child? People are mysterious creatures and very contradictory. However, this camp was the smallest. Apparently our Hero hasn't managed to annoy everyone yet.

Well, the third camp, the second largest. This crowd of people looked at this scene with interest. Yes, some of them, realizing what happened here, simply "moved" to the first or second camp. But there were also those who simply watched this with some kind of scientific interest. For example, the Moon. She was just very interested in what was going on here.

- Why did they crowd together, and then disperse! - suddenly (for ordinary children) the old, slightly grumbling, eternally dissatisfied voice of our supply manager was heard from behind the crowd. Hearing him, the children simply instinctively scattered to the sides, making way for him to pass. - Crowded here. Look what you're thinking, he'll disobey the director's words. I would like to whip you, but...

We never heard what he wanted to say (one hundred percent shouting about the abolition of corporal punishment). The sounds of the manager's shuffling steps fell silent, and he himself froze in place, falling silent mid-sentence. His empty eyes looked at the cat. Gradually, disbelief arose in them, the body began to shake slightly in a nervous tic, and only two words escaped from dry lips:

"Mrs. Noris..." the sound of a hoarse voice broke the silence of the castle. The figure of the caretaker somehow hunched over, and he himself, extending his hand in the direction of the cat, walked towards her with slow steps. - Why?..

The eyes of all the children were turned to this old man, who in one moment lost the only creature that he loved, and she loved him in return. The students' eyes followed his every action. How he slowly walked forward, muttering incoherent words under his breath: "Why?..", "Alone...", "Lost...". How the old man finally approached his dead pet and carefully took her off and laid her on the stone floor, laying out his coat. It was painful to watch his every action (and if you felt his emotions as your own).

Then his hand touched the cat's chest, where there was a lacerated wound, as if someone had torn her chest with force. Slowly raising his hand in front of his face, he looked distantly at the blood that covered it. Then Filch's eyes caught on the figure that was calmly standing next to him and watching him with some kind of disgust.

In an instant, all the pain, sadness and apathy left the old body. In its place came malice, anger and rage, so hot that it stroked everything, washing away all the walls and obstacles. The old man's gaze was clouded with a bloody veil.

"You…" an angry, slightly rumbling voice escaped from a dry throat, like a demon that had opened its way to the real world.

- I? - Potter asked puzzledly, expressing interest with his whole figure, not thinking at all about the fact that he was thereby provoking the old caretaker.

- Killed her...

- A cat? - he asked again and without waiting for an answer, he continued. - No. And even if he killed, it would not be a great loss.

As if I were not Java, I saw how his words were transformed into one, the last drop that overflowed the old man's cup of patience.

In a matter of moments, the caretaker's body was filled with fleeting power, directed only for one purpose: to punish the offender.

- R-r-a-A! — growling like a wild animal, Filch grabbed a dagger from his bosom and rushed towards Potter. Thor, without being confused, managed to dodge, but the blade of the dagger still slightly touched the hero (none of the children had time to notice this. Everything happened very quickly).

Snatching his wand, Harry with one swing sent an air wave at the old man that should have blown him away, but he managed to surprise him. Having made an unthinkable somersault (as for an ordinary person), he was able to bow from the Hero's attack and rush towards him again.

- Stop! — one word, overflowing with mana and will, bound two bodies. Potter, casting a spell and Filch raising his dagger for another blow.

The crowd parted again to let in the Director along with the deans, who finally deigned to come here. There was silence. The children looked at the new characters, and they watched the scene that opened up for them with different emotions.

McGonagall and Snape reacted the same way, that is, nothing. Only surprise and some sadness slipped through the emotions. Sprout exclaimed in shock looking at the poor cat. Flitwick glanced at the picture indifferently, and then began to look around the space.

"I'm sorry, Argus," the director said, approaching the frozen caretaker.

"Mrs. Noris, she…" Filch said, turning in his direction.

"Alas," Albus shook his head to the side. The bells that hung in his beard began to jingle cheerfully, not at all fitting into the current situation.

- It is he! He killed Mrs. Noris! I'm going to kill him! - the caretaker roared and again rushed in his direction, but Filch was stopped by Dumbledore's hand, which lay on his shoulder.

- Calm down. "I'll figure it out," he said confidently. Hearing his words, Filch instantly weakened and, releasing the dagger from his hands, sank to the ground, looking with pain at the cat's body.

With a clang, the dagger fell from his hands to the ground. This served as a signal for further action.

— The Chamber of Secrets is open! Enemies of the heir, tremble! — suddenly the arrogant voice of one blond sounded from the crowd of Slytherins. Gorda emerged from the crowd and continued. - I wonder who will be the next target? — and so, fleetingly, his eyes looked at me. There was an evil expectation in them. What a jealous little guy. And then he came out. For what?

- Minus fifteen points, Mr. Malfoy. "For inappropriate words," Albus said sternly, looking at the blond with his serious gaze. The blond instantly lost consciousness and hid in the crowd of snakes. Hmm, Snape really didn't like the performance of one of the students, and he clenched his teeth. - Headmen! Show the students to their bedrooms! "Alas, today's event is cancelled," said the director's ringing voice. "And for you, Harry, together with your friends, I'll ask you to stay a little longer," Albus added much more quietly.

The voices of elders sounded from different sides, inviting their charges. Gradually the crowd divided into four parts and each of them followed the path known to them.

Taking Luna by the hand and smiling softly, you and your employees went to your tower.

And no one noticed how the hero's blood, which had fallen from the dagger, disappeared into the small cracks on the floor. And quite by chance this blood ended up in a special flask that had just been created. (I performed the spell under my robe. It is quite comfortable. Now I understand why magicians wear it.)

Psi is a useful thing. And I will still need Potter's blood.

*****

The flames were mesmerizing. By picking up logs and using them as fuel, they extended their fleeting life. The petals seemed to be alive, dancing, intertwining, being born, dying, communicating. But their "life" was too short compared to the lifespan of a person.

Sitting in a bag chair in the living room of my faculty, I was waiting for my companion for that night. After all, literally in an hour and a half the next ritual will take place. Not the first, but far from the last. However, it does not cease to be less important.

The living room was empty. Some of the children were in their rooms, others had already left the living room. Therefore, I allowed myself to be watery, bringing out for everyone to see (ha ha ha) a flask with the blood of a national hero.

Question: what to do with it? The time of its use is extremely short, provided that Potter is not a fool and will "cut off" from himself all the "flesh" taken from him, so that it will not be used against him. And knowing him, I can say for sure that he is not a fool and will definitely use this ritual (to perform it you only need to know the ritual circle, which is extremely simple, small and empty space. So there is nothing complicated). Therefore, I have from a couple of days to a week. Why such a deadline? It is highly not recommended to perform rituals before and after Samhain, of course, if you want to participate in it. And something tells me that Potter will "celebrate" him according to all the rules.

I was distracted from my thoughts by the sound of quiet footsteps on the stairs. Having removed the flask and raised my gaze, I faced the Moon, who was looking at me with curiosity.

- Are you ready? — I asked getting up from my seat.

- Yes.

- Then let's go.

Taking the girl by the hand and with a couple of waves of my wand, I cast the already familiar set of spells on us (it's definitely not worth firing invis). We have quite an interesting night ahead of us.

*****