Hogwarts: Through the Veil of Time

I learned the sparse "instructions" for spells, and there's no other way to say it, according to the curriculum for three years and a few household spells from my sister's notes. It's hard to draw conclusions yet and it's worth looking at wizards in their natural habitat - at Hogwarts.

Hermione never showed up at the house, she just wrote back via owl that she would be going straight to Hogwarts from some Weasleys, wishing everyone well, peace, chewing gum, and that she was doing just fine. That's all. The impudent bird didn't even wait for an answer - she handed over the letter and flew away. Oh well.

My physical condition improved a little in August, which is not surprising. Life energy, youth, a growing healthy body that is becoming even healthier by the hour, abundant food and life on schedule - it would be a sin not to develop! Of course, I did not become an athlete - a completely normal thirteen-year-old guy, above average, my face became a little more handsome, my hair is still black, and my eyes are blue. Now at least I do not want to feed me as soon as possible. True, I had to update my wardrobe a little again, but this concerned only ordinary things - the school uniform and robes I bought adjusted themselves to size - I think this is a product of local enchantment or artifactorics. It is a pity that they do not use constructs and seals here, and it is almost impossible to understand something just holding the thing in your hands.

On August 31, I was packed and equipped for the trip to Hogwarts. All the necessary things and purchased accessories, books, stationery, socks, underpants and other junk - everything fit safely into the triangular backpack on one strap that I begged from my parents, bought and personally enchanted myself. Yes, one of the few constructs that I know - for creating a travel bag. I often had to use it when traveling.

About the conditions in terms of parameters... Well, it's hard to judge. The bracelet adapts to my successes and it's just as hard for me to train as it was the first time, but I can do not just a couple dozen different movements or a ten-minute warm-up, but a full series of movements and almost an hour of exercises that are somewhat reminiscent of wushu. Or is wushu reminiscent of elven training complexes-dances?

Witchcraft... Well, yes, I have memorized, but not learned the spells. The reason for my difficulties is very simple - I direct magic with threads, so to speak. The fragments of lives were so dashingly embedded in my soul that it was easy to regain control, but another problem arose - a reflex. Almost all magic, all the constructs, runes and other things that I brought with me from these fragments, required precise and subtle control of energies, the ability to direct them strictly and only in the form of threads, preventing dissipation. This plays a cruel joke on me, because I unconsciously direct them like that, and local witchcraft is based on trails of magic released through a wand. Precisely trails, like streams of smoke, and I have not practiced this. But, I think, it is just a matter of time and practice. You need to learn to "let go" of the magic, and only then feel, realize and learn to make these trains consciously, without a wand.

In general, nothing is clear about local magic, but it is very interesting.

***

On the morning of the first of September I was fully prepared for work and defense, having dressed in advance in a school uniform of trousers, a shirt, a jumper and a tie. Of course, I couldn't do without shoes. Good patent leather boots, although they are still half-boots. Robes and other personal items were in the backpack, like everything else, and the school trunk was traveling almost empty. I did not disdain and imposed a whole complex of magical contours and enchantments on clothes to improve their practicality and durability along with maintaining comfortable conditions. In honor of my first sending to school as a student in general, and to Hogwarts in particular, my parents decided to be late for work. I was not facing a classic trip by train and boats, but being sent by fireplace, and not in the morning, but almost in the evening. Therefore, I listened to instructions on good behavior, worries, etc. Only at half past six in the afternoon, the doorbell rang in the house.

Professor McGonagall personally came for me, made sure I was okay and ready for school, and even apparated with me to the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. The feeling of being moved in such a brutal way, when you are literally dragged through a puncture in space the size of a needle's eye, was indescribable and in an attempt to normalize my "inner world" I did not even notice how we flew away through the fireplace to another pub, gloomy and stern. The barman there was a match for the pub, tall, powerful, bearded.

"Hello, Aberforth," the professor greeted, receiving only a nod.

There were no visitors in the pub and we didn't linger, we left straight away.

The fresh air was incredibly pleasant, and I even allowed myself to stop a little and take a couple of deep breaths.

- Is everything alright, Mr. Granger?

- Yes, yes, professor. The air here is painfully clean.

- Nature, lake, forest. Hogwarts is in a very good place both from a magical and natural point of view.

- I completely agree with you, professor.

The weather outside was cloudy and I wouldn't be surprised if a thunderstorm with rain soon broke out, ahead, at the end of the path, wooden and stone houses with high and sharp roof slopes were visible. The soft light of the lights was burning in the houses and everything would be fine, but the weather was gloomy. And a strange feeling...

"Something's wrong around here, Professor," I remarked as we walked to Hogwarts.

"The castle will be guarded by Dementors this year," McGonagall said sternly.

- And when did the school turn into a branch of Azkaban?

— Do you know about dementors and Azkaban?

— I like to read and collect information. This is important.

- I agree. The Ministry of Magic took such measures in connection with the escape of Sirius Black.

- I've heard about it. Even ordinary people were warned about it on the evening news.

Some tiny fragments of knowledge about dementors were spinning in my head, and I clearly didn't get them in this world – here only from books. The Patronus spell, which is related to the highest light magic, as it is called here – that's their weakness. I will definitely need to study it.

When we passed the village and almost reached Hogwarts, literally in front of its gates I felt a sharp cold, steam came out of my mouth, and in magic I felt the clear presence of a rather advanced undead. Sharply turning on the spot and pulling out my wand, I pointed it at the five subjects that appeared. Enormous black robes hovering above the ground. Dark holes under the hood, the hems of the robes were torn, like the sleeves, the rags of which seemed to move under water - smoothly and slowly.

The professor didn't hesitate to turn around and point her wand at them. Some negative… negative negatives, you can't even say it any other way! As if someone was desperately trying to shake up my bad memories, plunging me into depression. It won't work - I've long ago hung a bunch of protection on my mentality. But how disgusting. Even the professor turned pale.

"This is not the wizard you are looking for," the professor said sternly. "There is no Sirius Black here."

The Dementors hung in the air for a while and flew away, and McGonagall quietly took a breath, as did I. I have several methods of fighting the undead in my stash, but I have not tried them with a magic wand, like many other things - this concentrator and conductor is quite unique and directs magic in a slightly different way from the usual. There is no talk of wandless magic, as I can do - such abilities should be kept secret and then they will be aces up the sleeve.

"Follow me," McGonagall said, more sternly than before.

A couple of minutes later, we walked through the tall double doors of the main entrance to Hogwarts and walked along rather dark corridors. The sound of footsteps on the stone floor echoed loudly along the corridors and was lost there, in the darkness under the ceiling, where almost no light fell - it was dark outside in the evening, and the lights in the castle were not turned on. Was it the wrong time? Were they saving on torches?

Here McGonagall led me to the large doors, lightly pushed them with her hand, and we entered the large hall. Four long tables stretched almost the entire length of the hall, and on the other side there was a small podium on which stood another table, perpendicular to those four. Behind it, a small man in a tailcoat and green robe was already sitting, bored. Moustache, neat round glasses.