Chapter 20 Return to Hogwarts.

The journey home from France was a very ordinary, Muggle one. I don't know why Olympia gave me this route, but she probably wanted me to see France before I went back to Britain. First, I had to get from Toulouse, where there was one of the magical entrances-exits to the territory of Beauxbatons, by train to Paris. In Paris I should have taken the train to Calais, and in Calais I should have taken the ferry to Dover. Then from Dover, by train again, to London, and I'm home.

I was a little afraid of missing a train somewhere or getting lost. Although I was well acquainted with the Muggle world, well aware of the norms of behavior of ordinary people, was not a wild magician, but an ordinary person can get lost in an unfamiliar city between three train stations.

At Toulouse I took the train. My ticket was checked, and I prepared for a long trip. The route was indirect, with many stops. As I mentioned, Madame Maxime probably sent me on a special Muggle transport to look at France, even from the train window. The route was chosen, I think, based on the same principles.

Companion in the compartment I was Nathan Lafarge, our teacher of potions at Sarbacane. I had to keep him company all the way to Paris. So I wasn't afraid of getting lost before Paris. Although, where would I go from the train? There was also an element of verification in my traveling companion, because I did not know until I boarded the train that my traveling companion would be a professor from the academy.

"Professor?" I asked, a little surprised.

"Arrakis," Lafarge said, nodding in greeting.

— I didn't know we were going to Paris together, " I smiled, glad to be able to talk to someone I knew on the way.

Lafarge had taken Fleur on as a personal apprentice when he noticed her incredible progress in potion-making, and promised that he would train her to become a master in a short time. He was a little annoyed that he could not take me as an apprentice, and so ... to train two young masters is a great prestige!

"I have to go to Paris," the professor said, smiling and spreading his hands. "Madame Maxime asked me to look after you on the way to the capital.

This still immature wizard was able to win over. His light gray-green eyes, brown hair, regular features, and neat clothes made him look quite ordinary. Within five minutes of meeting him, he had the impression that he had known this man for a thousand years. Communication, however, did not go down to familiarity.

"I am a little sorry," said the professor, " that you, Monsieur Blair, did not become my pupil. If you had stayed in Beauxbatons, I would have had two apprentice masters in the near future.

— I'm a little sorry to leave, too, "I said, feeling guilty," but I just have to go back, sir."

It would be difficult for me to explain to Nathan Lafarge why I should return to Hogwarts. It was hard for me to explain it even to myself.

Get into the world of Harry Potter and skip the whole canon by?

I was just curious to see Harry Potter! I also had some unresolved business with Sirius and Rod Black. There were concerns from the canon about Voldemort, and what if the canon is a non-canon? Help me out the room was never searched…

Monsieur Lafarge only sighed.

— In Paris, I will apply for the title of apprentice in the name of Fleur Delacour. All the necessary set of potions she has already brewed under my supervision, the quality is good and excellent, it remains to write a couple of small articles in the periodical professional publication of potion makers to improve existing potions in collaboration with me. I have already prepared the articles — " the professor said.

"The potion that is prepared for the mastery," Lafarge was saying, looking intently into my eyes — " is it not of your own making?" A mana potion. - said the professor.

"Actually, yes," I said, not bothering to lock myself in. "Fleur and I made it together, but the basic idea is mine.

"I can only advise you, Monsieur Blair, to apply to a teacher at Hogwarts for a master's degree," Lafarge said gravely, " even though you have given the authorship to Mademoiselle Delacour, I am sure you have something in store. You may have to first brew a lot of potions to become an apprentice, and Monsieur Snape is not very famous among potion makers as a teacher, but you have the potential to become a master.

"Hmm," I chuckled, "I thought it would take a talent in this field to become a master," I expressed my doubts.

"Not at all," said the professor, " it's just that talent makes the journey easier and shorter. And who told you that you have no talent? Potion — making is a discipline that is largely subject to different rules and laws, "Lafarge said, which I already knew," so success in it depends largely on knowledge and the ability to apply this knowledge. Yes, a special gift will greatly help the potioneer on his path of becoming, especially at the initial stage and at the top of the skill. Determine the quality of the ingredients, the different stages of preparation, the best time to bookmark the additives… By the shades of smell and color, by bubbles and haze, by other signs, to catch different nuances — this is not given to everyone, but if you want, you can learn and understand it.

The professor clearly liked his subject, and he liked the learning process. He told me a lot during the journey about various potions and even about a couple of funny and funny cases.

From what I've been told, I understand that I'll have to turn to Snape for a personal apprenticeship. The prospect was not very encouraging. Not only was the professor of Hogwarts not a fan of learning, the title of teacher of the year does not threaten him, but also my face for him was a living reminder of the "happy" school days. Snape's training will not be easy! My confidence that the professor would run me through the entire mandatory program and make me brew all the potions for the title of apprentice at least ten times was absolute. I'll probably have to write the articles myself. Snape himself will criticize and give caustic comments.

"I should remind you, Blair, that I am against pornography in the scientific literature, and in literature in general. What do you write here: "The effect of the action of star anise is superimposed on the properties of essential oils of dianthus"? You should learn the terminology! I could almost hear Snape's voice. I shuddered all over.

So, talking with a Professor of Sambacana and admiring the landscapes of France, I rode it all the way to Paris. There I took the train to Calais. Monsieur Lafarge, either on behalf of Madame Maxime or on his own initiative, made sure that I got on the train. I didn't care about his motives, I wasn't interested.

As a fellow traveler to Calais, I had a scowling Muggle who had not only French features, but also Arabic ones. By and large, I didn't care about him, I didn't bother with conversations, I took out a book and began to read. But sometimes my thoughts drifted away from what I was reading.

So, now it is already 1993, I am fifteen years old, almost an adult. Harry Potter will be thirteen years old, and he will go to the third year of Hogwarts. A meeting with a Prisoner of Azkaban, dementors and a werewolf — Lupin is expected ahead.

The Muggle on the train to Calais didn't stop me from reminiscing.

If everything is in accordance with the canon, then at Hogwarts I will have the opportunity to meet my father. He must escape from Azkaban this summer after seeing the Weasley family's coldography in the paper and recognizing the Pettigrew rat in Ron's arms, or on his shoulder. It will be necessary to track this moment in the newspapers. As I recall, Sirius ' escape will be reported even in the Muggle media.

Not relying on television and simple newspapers, I made a point of subscribing to the Daily Prophet for three months. It was possible for a month, but suddenly Sirius will run away at the end of the summer. I didn't know the exact date of the escape.

The second thing I set myself to do was to learn the patronus spell. Protection from dementors must be at hand. If the canon is in force, then all of Hogwarts will be surrounded by these creatures.

I may have had problems and worries ahead of me, but now the Athelstan-Ride album was playing in my soul. Unfortunately, this album has not been released yet, and it will be a long time to wait for it. Under the rhythmic clatter of the wheels I was thinking about Britain. Architecture-yes. Traditions, no doubt. Nature-nature is almost always and everywhere so special and attractive, Britain is no exception. People? Heeh…

People are everywhere and always remain people. Here, too, you can meet different people. Who knows, maybe my status has had such an impact on my growing into the society of Hoag's students? If I were a pureblood and there wouldn't be any problems?! It's hard to say…

Gradually, my thoughts drifted to the living stones — the stones with the soul.

The topic is very large and interesting.

It turned out that if you want to create some powerful artifact, the fastest and easiest way to do it is to use a stone with a soul in it.

Monsieur Henry Delacour told me a lot of interesting things about these stones. Yes, he only knew about the three stones, but he also said that there could be more, and they didn't have to be as big as the three known ones. It seemed that I should look for such stones either from goblins or dwarves. People, if they have such a treasure, then hide information about it from everyone.

I may not have bought an owl yet, but I've already made up my mind to buy one. In the meantime, I decided to write letters for Cedric Diggory and for Stacey Hopkins.

A letter to Cedric:

"Hello Cedric!

I'm sorry I didn't write to you from France. All the hands did not reach, then the tests, then the studies, then the French women... joke.

Just now I was able to buy an owl and finally write you a letter.

I hope you're not too offended by my silence? But if you are offended with me, I can blame you for the same. You didn't write to me either.

I have returned to Britain, and we will meet again at Hogwarts soon. I have a lot to tell you about France, Gringotts, and Magic. I'll tell you everything at Hogwarts. I expect you to give me a detailed account of the events at the school while I was away. What kind of Potter is he? Who else from the children of famous families went to Hog? While I was in France, I did not follow the events on the islands at all, so I am interested in everything!

Caption: Your friend is Arrakis."

Stacey's letter:

"Hello Hopkins!

Your good friend, I hope, Arrakis Sirius Blair, writes to you.

You remember me, don't you?

Do not be surprised at the strange way of delivering the letter, among those with whom I communicate, this is normal.

So that there is no misunderstanding: Among my friends at the orphanage, you are the only one with whom I would like to continue at least some communication.

Unfortunately, I do not know your address or how your fate turned out.

Yes, yes, don't be surprised — I don't know.

So I'm asking you to meet me. Write me your address or the place and time of the meeting. The feathered postman will deliver your reply message

. P.S. Try not to tell anyone about me and about the owl that brought you the letter.

Waiting for an answer."

The Muggle who rode with me in the same compartment never bothered me. He kept reading the newspaper and throwing meaningful "hmm... "or" however " into space. Outwardly, he wasn't attractive, or even cute.

I had been drowsy for a long time, and after writing the letters, I was a little sleepy. The guide in Calais woke me up.

"Monsieur, the final one," he said, shaking me by the shoulder.

I needed no other explanation. I jumped out of my seat, frantically preparing to leave.

— You can take your time, — the guide reassured me, — we've only just arrived. Your fellow passenger has already got off, one of the first.

Nodding to the guide, I continued to pack a little more calmly.

After getting off the train, I managed to get to the ferry without any problems. It was not far to go, and Calais was a small town, and you could walk from one end to the other if you wanted to. For comparison, there are a whole bunch of similar cities in the Moscow region.

As I boarded the ferry, I noticed that my fellow passenger in the compartment from Paris to Calais had also boarded the ferry.

"Ho, so this is an Englishman," I thought, " that's why he seemed so tight-lipped. Usually the French are more talkative and uninhibited."

However, apart from the moment of boarding the ferry, I did not cross paths with this gentleman again.

There was also a group of magicians on the ferry, who were having as much fun as they could to the best of their wits and vocation. The targets of their jokes were Muggles, of course. To someone they tangled their shoelaces, to someone they made a running board. Muggles didn't notice the wizards, and they were at a loss to guess at their sudden clumsiness or the strange combination of circumstances.

I tried not to notice the Muggles, who were particularly exposed to the attention of young but not very smart wizards, and the wizards themselves. Everyone has as much fun as they can, as long as I'm not touched, I'm neutral.

But I managed to maintain my neutrality only until I became the target myself. One of the young mages cast a tangled shoelace spell on me.

"What the fuck?" Don't you have anything to do? I turned to the merry men.

Three young guys about the age of Hogwarts graduation were a little discouraged that I noticed their manipulations.

"Here?" said one of them.

— If you don't stop, you'll get 'here' and 'hoo-iz-hoo' and 'tu-bi or not tu-bi', "I replied in Russian, perceiving my native English as hostile at that moment.

— So you're a wizard?" — What is it? " one of the young fools asked. — Are you from Durmstrang?

- No, I'm not from Durmstrang! I replied in English. — Coming home from Sambacana.

— So you're English?" A third asked.

"Scottish, to be precise," I said. "Arrakis Sirius Blair," I decided to introduce myself, to clear up the confusion, " was a two — year student exchange student at Beauxbatons.

— I remember you, " exclaimed the first blockhead, — you were a student at Ravenclaw. I'm William Dauman, I went to Gryffindor.

— I'm Mitchell Adderley, Gryffindor.

— Well, I'm Daniel Arton, also a Gryffindor, — the latter said.

If I could still remember Dauman, the other two were completely new faces to me, although then I remembered that William had two Muggle-born friends. Dauman himself had the status of a half — blood. At Hogwarts, he didn't stand out in anything special, just an ordinary average person. It is likely that the guys at the end of Hogwarts decided to go to France, and now they are returning back. If Dauman doesn't get his friends settled in the wizarding world, it's probably the last time they hang out together, and Daniel and Mitchell are not going to have a very bright streak. Although, what do I know about them? Perhaps they are from well-to-do families.

The three of you could get in trouble if anyone notices you having fun. The Statute of secrecy has not yet been revoked.

"Oh, come on," Mitchell said.

"We'll be careful," Dauman, who was the oldest of the three, said in contrast to Mitchell.

After a little more conversation about nothing, we parted. I had no desire to get to know these guys better, they also had their own established company, which is not so easy to enter.

Left alone, I once again began to think about my next steps on the path of understanding magic.

As a magician, I had progressed very far in magic, and now I was assessing my knowledge at the level of an excellent graduate of Hogwarts. My knowledge has moved to a new level. How can I explain it more precisely? For example, I used to be able to count to five barely. That is, if I see five items in any order, I will immediately say that there are five of them. I don't need to break them up into groups. So now I've learned to count to six!

No, that explanation sounds too stupid. Analogies are always inaccurate. Perhaps it is more accurate to say that I now feel magic more clearly, now for me spells were not just key words and wand movements. Now I understood the essence of some spells and could improve them if I wanted. For me, wandless and nonverbal spells have opened up in a new light. But that's not the main thing, now I could combine my knowledge from different magical disciplines, almost intuitively. Runes, potions, charms — for me, the division was no longer so strict.

Potions…

Will have to go cap in hand to Snape. But if he refuses me, I'll go to Flitwick. Our dean will advise me on a master potion maker. I think any potions master with a head on his shoulders would not refuse to accept me as an apprentice. A couple of tasks are enough to test my abilities, and if you know that the training will not last long, then this is an additional prestige for the teacher. And you can refuse to study potions at Hogwarts.

After crossing the Channel and arriving at Dover, I went to Dover Priory and took the train there. This time my companion was a young Englishman of pleasant appearance. Fair hair, swamp-green eyes, and a well-groomed moustache — a fairly ordinary appearance for an Englishman, until all the emigrants were here. He was dressed in a gray suit and a gray hat with a narrow brim.

"Arrakis Blair," I said first.

"Daniel Carey —" my traveling companion replied in the same vein.

Our acquaintance went no further. I just made myself comfortable and fell asleep. Mr. Carey didn't bother me. Most likely, he also decided to take a nap. At least the guide in London woke up not only me, but also my fellow passenger.

It was only a short walk from London to home. I didn't want to go to my trustee's flat in London. I didn't even tell him I'd be back from France soon. But when I got home, it turned out that the trustee was here, not in London.

We had lunch together, and then I introduced Mr. Atkinson to my plans. Of course, I had to interpret a lot of things related to magic in a slightly different way. For example, I had to explain the purchase of an owl by the need for a school program, to include a zoological circle here. The postman owl is magical, of course, but Muggles see them, even if not all the time.

I noticed that I had never seen Bruce's wife before.

After telling me about France and the necessary purchases, I got my pocket money and went to my room to sleep.

The next day I went back to London. When he reached the Leaky Cauldron, he tapped a simple combination on the bricks on the wall in the back yard and walked down Diagon Alley.

I have not yet received the list of necessary purchases, but many items are repeated from year to year without changing. For example, if you want, you can buy the entire school set for potions in advance, you just need to name your course. The Hogwarts curriculum on this subject has not changed for more than fifty years. It is quite possible to buy school robes and writing supplies in advance. You can also easily purchase textbooks on charms and transfiguration for your course. The main changes occur when the subject changes the teacher. Consequently, at Hogwarts, most of the changes are happening in ZOTI, well, it seems that the care of magical creatures this year will be led by Hagrid.

In France, I somewhat regretted that I did not take this subject. Fleur went several times with her group to a nature reserve near Toulouse and brought back many different herbs that we needed in potions. The magical part of the reserve was no less than the Muggle part and there was a lot to see. Thanks to Fleur's stories, I was now thinking: do I need this subject?

After buying everything I could buy in advance, I went to the pet store, where I bought an owl. The most common postal owl, young, but already almost adult. He called her Feza (feather). I fed her well and gave her the first task. After attaching the first prepared letter, he sent his postman to Cedric. He went to Fortescue's Cafe for an ice cream.

While sitting in the cafe, eating a third portion of ice cream and watching the rare passers-by, the owl managed to take the letter and return with an answer. Certainly, these flying postmen know how to shorten the path.

Cedric's answer:

Hello, Arrakis.

I was not a little pleased with your letter. I was a little sorry you didn't write to me from France. But you're right, I didn't write you a letter either.

I will tell you about the events in Hogwarts and Britain when we meet. I don't know everything, but what I do know will make you think. As for Potter, you're in for a surprise.

See you soon!

Signed: Cedric Diggory.

"What kind of surprise is this?"

It's not that I don't think about possible canon violations at all, but if Potter happens to be on Slytherin, for example, it would be inconvenient. I didn't think much about Potter. I left the cafe and went home. I could have gone straight to the usual shops in London and bought some clothes and stationery, but I was getting a little tired. There will be more time before school.

Mr. Atkinson was not at home this time. He warned me that he would be in the London flat and invited me to come in. But I have something like a rule, if possible, not to go into someone else's territory. I had my own room in a house in the suburbs, so I considered this house partly my own. I had no territory of my own in Mr. Atkinson's London flat, so I considered it a foreign one.

Having already sent the second letter from home, for Hopkins, I hesitated a little: what would I do?

Labor has made a man out of a monkey! Well, that's what they say. But perhaps the reverse process is also possible, when a person turns into an animal and not necessarily because of idleness. Yes, and the transformation into an animal can occur not externally, but internally, when a person discards morality and principles, a sense of proportion, and refuses prudence, starting to measure everything with their desires.

I already have a certain habit of being busy. If there is no case, then I will definitely organize it. The task can be reading, magical research, observation, making and inventory plans, training, travel, and anything else.

I picked up one of the extra recommended books for the enchantment course, lay down on the couch, and began to read. The book was uninteresting, but it brought up the memories of Orion Black through a blood connection. He had read it once, too. It felt like walking through the city of childhood. As if he had once lived in this place, but had left for a long time. Now you're back and you're walking the familiar streets again, remembering. Many things look different, some are completely new, and the third is exactly like from childhood.

Gradually, my thoughts drifted to the obscura. My relationship with my inner darkness was like shamanism. The feedback from obscura to me was based on a mixture of semitones of sensations. The smell here acquired color, the taste could be touched, the color in turn could acquire tactile properties, for example, roughness.

I was still afraid to purposefully influence my darkness. All my actions so far have been aimed at calming this beast. But life is a complicated thing, it does not do without shocks at all. There were curses in my direction, which were absorbed with pleasure by the obscurus, there were moments of anger and anger, which stimulated the obscurus to activity. What else? Yes, a lot of things! The information gradually accumulated. It is already known that my magic changes and rituals affect this beast of darkness. Perhaps the time will soon come when I will decide to do something purposefully.

Gradually, my thoughts drifted to Fleur. I didn't put the book down, even though I closed it, but I held it in my hands, thinking. Gradually, as I wandered through my memory, I began to think about the topic of living stones again. My plans for a golem that would become a family heirloom, at the same time a guard and a butler, a cook and a teacher, and anything else, could not be realized without a stone with a soul.

Henry, in addition to the three famous stones, told the legend of the bloodstone.

"This stone probably has a soul, too," Henry's voice echoed in my memory. "According to legend, a vampire wearing this stone is immune to sunlight and does not feel thirsty."

Henry himself said that this is just a legend, but mentioned that legends have a real justification. I was afraid to mess with vampires. These creatures can move even faster than werewolves. If a vampire has an artifact weapon in his hands, he automatically turns into a mage killer.

Yes, I now had the speed potion, but its duration is too short. The acceleration spell is only in my plans for now.

In general, Henry said that vampires are quite social monsters in this world. They have often tried to create a romantic or noble image for themselves among Muggles. True, they actually tried to create different orders of guardians of knowledge, patrons of the arts, or engines of progress within their society. But such lofty goals and the principles accompanying them were supported by a very small number of bloodsuckers.

I saw a film with a noble bloodsucker in beautiful clothes, reasoning on philosophical questions, or about a vampire doctor who is not afraid of the plague, treats people and looks for a cure, or about a ghoul who saves rare books or a canvas by a famous master during a fire-you know-the author of this film was most likely influenced by bloodsuckers.

Magicians sometimes even sponsor reverse-direction paintings that show vampires without embellishment. There, these creatures hide from the light of day in sewers or burrows, and not in ancient crypts or mysterious mansions in red velvet coffins. They drink the blood of rats and other homeless animals, or at best some homeless person, and then cover up the traces of the crime, and not at home by the fireplace from a gold cup or a crystal glass the blood of virgins.

No, no, vampires have a civilization now, too. There is no need to hunt people for the sake of survival, there are enough blood donation points. Various outcasts, as a rule, are harassed by the vampire society itself. But sometimes there are outcasts who have influence and power. Here with them it is already more difficult. They are upsetting the current balance, a sort of Voldemort for the vampire society.

While I was thinking about it, the owl from Hopkins came back.

The Answer Is Hopkins:

Meet me at 114 St. Martin's Lane, Charing Cross, on the last Sunday of summer at exactly 1: 00 p.m.

I'm not sure it's you. But if it's you, well, you've always been a little weird.

Obviously, Stacey was afraid to meet someone she didn't know, so she set up a public meeting place. Of course, she didn't know that a wizard could very well kidnap a person in the most public place on a clear day, and Muggles wouldn't be able to understand or do anything.

It was already clear to me that a large and strong team could not be assembled. All the prerequisites were that I would be able to find one or two friends. Right now, I had three people I could rely on: Carlos, Cedric, Fleur. If you need a large team, you will have to attract mercenaries or create some kind of "Dumbledore's Squad".

With Fleur until the end nothing is clear. We are too young, and for us to break up for a year, it's like for life. I was afraid to call my feelings for her love. I just knew that if I admitted it, even to myself, it would be true. I didn't want to repeat one of the many stories of my first unhappy love. Later we will see what our relationship is like.

I decided to write an additional letter to Fleur. Nothing serious or important, just to say that I got home without incident — I'm all right. For my bird, this is the last job for the near future. I wasn't going to write to Carlos yet. I will write after the first of September. He's got other things to worry about right now.

While there was time, I went shopping, buying different clothes. I haven't bought much, I'm still growing. I took shoes for winter and autumn-spring, slippers, a pair of trousers for autumn-spring, a pair of trousers for winter, a few light-colored shirts, picked up a tie in the colors of Ravenclaw, a pair of sweaters, a bunch of socks, underpants, and that's it. Oh, yes, I almost forgot, I also bought a guitar. Nothing special, a simple tool for the novice amateur, enchanted, and became exclusive.

After a second trip to Diagon Alley, I bought everything I needed for school. This time I even seemed to be able to see some vaguely familiar faces from the canon.

I didn't see Granger or Potter. Who else is there? Malfoy? Greengrass? Weasley? I think I'd recognize them if I saw them.

After subscribing to the Daily Prophet, I returned home. Before school, he did various small things, made plans to take over the world.

An article about Sirius Black's escape appeared in the paper towards the end of the summer. I didn't pay much attention to this news. Almost everything that is written in the Prophet must be divided by two, or multiplied by two, at least. For me, this article was just a marker for defining the canon.

Oh, this notorious canon. There are always doubts: Whether to break the canon? Then the world itself wants to return to the beaten track, despite any blows to the canon. Then from a small touch, a complete game begins to be created. Here is such a capricious canon.

At the appointed time, on the last Sunday of summer, I showed up for a meeting with Stacey Hopkins. She recognized me immediately, although I had grown a lot since our last meeting.

It turned out that Hopkins was adopted, and not taken under patronage. Now she has a new last name — Goodman. Her foster parents are police officers, and Stacey Goodman has decided to join the police force when she grows up. We exchanged contacts, although Stacey did not want to do this at first, she had a desire to completely break with her old life, but I changed her mind.

I could use my police connections, and Stacey would need a wizard to know her. I had already decided that I would introduce her partly to the world of wizards. Nothing concrete, no demonstrations, just words. But if something inexplicable ever happens in her life, she will have someone to turn to for help.

On the first of September, I took the Hogwarts Express, as is my custom, before anyone else. I calmly chose a compartment and began to look out of the window of the car at the magicians gradually arriving on the platform with the children.

My plan was to go through the train and find Potter, but first I decided to talk to Cedric.

Cedric saw me from the platform and got into my compartment. He had a prefect's badge on his chest, which he was very proud of. After warning me that he would have to make his rounds on the train, he immediately began to tell me about the events at Hogwarts.

"Gryffindor got a lot of points for something, and Quirrell was never seen again," Cedric finished the short story about Potter's first year, and immediately moved on to the second. "Everyone was on edge about these mysterious attacks —" he said, " and Potter turned out to be a snake eater. Almost everyone thought she was the heir to Slytherin. But I remembered what you told me before you left for France, and I supported her in this difficult moment, when everyone tried to avoid her. My faculty also cautiously provided support. Although, I wasn't sure what Potter is not the heir of Slytherin. But when Granger was petrified, there was no doubt in my mind that Potter couldn't have attacked her best friend, " Diggory explained. — Then, towards the end of the year, something happened at Hogwarts. Potter and the younger Weasley were in the hospital wing, the aurors were running around, and the headmaster was very pleased with something. Although, quite recently there was a real harassment of the director. It's no joke, the students are petrified, there are frightening rumors going around the school, and the headmaster can't do anything.

However, no one died, " Cedric continued, — and no one was even seriously injured, except for Potter and the younger Weasley. All the victims were "unfrozen" and persuaded to keep quiet. The Weasleys, oddly enough, didn't make a fuss either. Although, why strange? They are Dumbledore's most loyal companions, and they won the lottery very unexpectedly. I don't say anything about Potter at all, Dumbledore is her official guardian in the magical world, anyway.

From what I've been told, I understand that the canon is still in force, in part, and Potter is a girl — Henrietta Potter.

Cedric would have liked to hear my stories about France, but the train had started and it was time for him to make a detour. I also decided to go through the train and find the golden trio. It was interesting to see the female version of Potter.

Leaving my suitcase unattended, I headed down the hall. I didn't worry about the suitcase, there are a lot of charms, you just can't open it quickly. Cedric, after his rounds, will go to the prefect's car, which he warned me about and invited me to come in. I only took my wand and guitar with me.

Walking down the hall, I ran into Lovegood. Probably, she was kicked out of the compartment and went for a walk on the train.

"Hi," I said.

"Hi," the girl said.

— My name is Arrakis Blair, fifth year, Ravenclaw Faculty.

— I'm Luna Lovegood, but most people call me Crazy Lovegood, second year, Ravenclaw.

Her unfocused gaze and distant expression were her main characteristics. An opinion was created as about a person not of this world.

— Why are you walking down the hall alone?" I asked. - Usually everyone sits in a compartment and shares their impressions of the past summer with friends.

"You're alone, too, and you're walking down the hall," Luna chided me. "Everyone has their reasons. It's just more convenient and easier for me.

"Well, I've already talked to Cedric Diggory —" I said defensively, " but he's busy right now, he's the headman, and we have to make our rounds on the train. While he's busy, I decided to go meet Potter.

"You have the weirdest brains I've ever met," Luna said indifferently.

"There's a completely empty compartment in three," I said, deciding to ignore Lovegood's words, "I've taken it for myself and Cedric, but Cedric is riding in the prefects' car, and I have a quest." Yes, and Cedric called to him. You can have my compartment if you want.

"Thank you, perhaps I'll take you up on your offer."

Finding Potter and the others was easy enough, with Remus Lupin sleeping in the compartment, or pretending to sleep. I didn't know how the obscurus would react to the dementor. I could use some extra insurance from Lupin.

"Knock, knock, hi," I said, opening the door and smiling.

There were simple locking charms on the door, weak and quickly eroding. I didn't even need a wand to take them off, just a will.

— Who the hell are you?" Weasley asked.

'It's actually busy,' said Hermione reproachfully.

Potter didn't say anything, just glared at me. She didn't look like Daniel Radcliffe, and thank the Magic. Apparently, she looks more like her mother. Her father had given her unruly black hair and poor eyesight.

I motioned for Hermione to move over.

"In case you hadn't noticed, you weren't invited," Granger continued indignantly, but she moved away.

— Who are you?" Potter asked, starting to get angry.

"My name is Arrakis Sirius Blair —" I said as I sat down. — I just wanted to talk to Potter." Actually, I read Harry Potter children's books, and I thought it was the boy-who-lived.

Granger began to explain that these books were fiction, and that there was fiction in them. Ron muttered something insulting, which I decided to ignore for the time being. Potter just blushed like a ripe tomato.

"Wait, wait," I said, interrupting the flow of words from Granger.

'But Professor Lupin is asleep —' said Hermione again. Unlike the girls, Ron was beginning to like the situation. The sixth Weasley was in a better mood, and he didn't mind my presence any more.

— If he hasn't woken up yet, he won't be woken up by a little song, "I said," and if he's pretending, it's impossible to wake the pretender."

I sang a song by Larisa Bocharova about Harry Potter. A lot of things had to be changed in the translation, and the words "I killed my father and mother in the cradle" did not sound very good. When translating into English, I still had to redo a lot, so this line fell out.

After the song, I started telling Potter about her father and Sirius Black, and about Lupin and Pettigrew. Scabbers was there, listening intently, too.

— How do you know that?" Granger asked.

— My father is Sirius Black, and thanks to my own special magic, I can see something of his past, " I revealed my secret. "Besides, you can ask Remus Lupin later," I said to Henrietta Potter, " and he'll confirm what I said."

We talked for quite a long time, after which I decided that the acquaintance had taken place and it was time to go to the prefects ' car to see Cedric. Finally, I decided to sing another song.

Fear of the Dark here went with a bang. It does not sound scary and gloomy, but rather sad and solemn.

"People are afraid of the dark!" I said, addressing Potter first. — For many, this fear has nothing to do with anything. The darkness in their souls turns out to be a mere trifle. When the time comes to look into this darkness, to look into the eyes of your fear, then for many the darkness is dispelled. Not even a haze remains. But we're not one of them, Potter.

I grinned.

"With people like you or me, or Professor Lupin, the Darkness is very real," I said. Our struggle for our essence does not stop after the victory over fear, but only begins in earnest. The darkness won't leave you alone!

With these last words, I reached out to Henrietta and brushed the fringe of hair that covered the scar on her forehead. She was mesmerized by my words, so she didn't pull away. The others also felt the moment and sat quietly. I was about to leave when the train jerked and began to slow down. The lights in the compartment went out, and a chill came over them.

"What is it?" Granger asked. — We're not there yet, it's too early!"

'There's some movement,' said Ron, looking out of the window.

— The Dementors! I said. "The dark things that guard Azkaban. They'll probably be searching the train with the aurors, looking for Black.

Potter and her friends fell silent, overwhelmed by the eerie sensations. "Dementors evoke the darkest memories in people —" I said, partly to dispel the gathering darkness, — even things we don't remember can come back from memory as if they were happening now. These things only make me angry.

Well, yes, all I really felt was anger. The obscurus woke up and longed to attack someone, to tear them apart, to crush them.

"Your eyes are full of anger!" I said with a phrase from the movie. "That's good! Anger gives strength.

It's from the movie "Ben Hur", — I gave the explanation, because the companions began to look at me like I brazuca.

When the door opened, I stood in front of the entrance, blocking the doorway.

"Sirius Black isn't here. Go away!

I was enveloped in darkness.

But the Dementor didn't listen to me and reached out to Potter. Seeing this disrespect, I let my obscurus off the leash. A strong telekinetic pulse hit the dark creature, throwing it against the window opposite the compartment entrance. The window was enchanted and didn't break. With a second impulse, I sent the creature down the corridor.

Then Lupin "woke up" and lit up the patronus, not realizing that I had already discarded the dementor.

— I have to go to my compartment, "I said, picking up my guitar and explaining my haste to the whole honest company, ignoring Lupin," there may be Luna Lovegood all alone."

When I reached my compartment, I found Luna in tears and shaking. He fed the girl chocolate, a stock of which he made in advance, knowing what to expect. After that, he took the girl with him to the car to the prefects, believing that in a large company she would soon come to her senses.

We made the rest of the way to Hogsmeade together. There were jokes, songs, and memories of the summer. Everyone wanted to dispel the darkness that the Dementors had created. It was partly successful.