Dark Hogwarts

Transfiguration

Together, we reached the transfiguration room five minutes before the start of the lesson. Slytherin and Hufflepuff freshmen were already crowding around the closed door, and with our addition, the hallway became crowded.

— Why is the door closed?

— Is this exactly the right office? What if we got it all mixed up?

— And what should we do? It's almost ten o'clock!

— Did you also sleep without beds? I thought only we, on Slytherin, had such a thing.

The children communicated, shared their thoughts and thus staged a real farce. I feel like McGonagall won't appreciate this.

However, just a minute after our arrival, the door clicked loudly. The Hufflepuffers standing closest timidly checked it, and it turned out to be open.

— Come in already, stop being a coward. How many people can you crowd," one of the Slytherin girls shouted irritably.

The first-year students piled into the classroom, spreading out across its wide, bright room. Each of the three faculties present occupied a certain row of desks: the Slytherins sat on the left edge, the Hufflepuffers also sat on the right, and we sat behind one of the central rows, which was closer to the badgers.

Somehow it so happened that as soon as I sat down at the third desk, Hermione sat down with me without further ado. I looked around: Ron and Harry sat behind us, Lavender and Parvati were even further away, and Seamus and Dean occupied Kamchatka. The remaining girls and Neville had no choice but to take the front seats.

The professor was not there. At least, that's how it would seem to any student, except me. After all, there was a neat gray cat on the teacher's desk, which stared at the students with its yellow eyes. And I knew perfectly well that this cat was quite unusual.

Is it really going to help me to finally know the canon? I could warn the others about McGonagall's surveillance, but that would raise unnecessary questions about my awareness. I don't know what the situation is with mind reading, but I'm not going to give myself another reason to get into my head.

Meanwhile, the silence in the classroom did not even think about coming. Due to the absence of a teacher, the children felt more confident and were in no hurry to observe the discipline so ardently adored by the dean of Gryffindor.

Somewhere in the distance, a bell rang once, which, apparently, meant the beginning of classes, like a school bell in an ordinary school. The noise and uproar stopped for a few seconds to resume with renewed vigor.

The children were shouting and behaving as casually as possible. They didn't even know that a strict professor was just a few steps away. I came up with the idea of how to use the available information to benefit myself and others. Gathering my thoughts, I got up from my seat and said loudly:

— BE QUIET! — the hubbub from all sides subsided, the children stared at me in surprise, — Actually, the lesson has begun, which means we need to wait for the professor's arrival in silence. We are so loud that you can easily hear us in the hallway, and maybe even outside it. What do you think will happen when Professor McGonagall finds us in such a farce? Are you ready to check it out? No? Then we sat down in our seats, straightened our backs and took out the necessary things for the lesson. Well, the most important thing is to shut up, - such a sharp speech scared even me, but it was too late to retreat — you can't turn back what was said even with a time flywheel.

And he didn't want to use McGonagall in her presence as a horror story for the others. This made him angry, eventually finishing his speech in front of unfamiliar children almost in an imperious humiliating tone.

However, incredibly, but the fact is: they listened to me! It turned out that iron-clad arguments, a confident voice and a similar tone are able to calm overly active children even through the mouth of their classmate.

Yes, some of the students clearly did not like it, but no one dared to speak out against it. This is for the best, and for them, because any conflict in this situation will end up with me because of the presence of a professor in the office.

As soon as there was silence in the classroom, some scuffling was heard from the hallway. The door opened a crack, and a child's head appeared from the opening.

—Huh, she's not here yet," said a Ravenclaw freshman whose name I didn't remember. After his words, he opened the door to the swing and with quick steps reached the last desk, on which he sat down with relief. The rest of the crows followed him, taking their places in the only empty row.

— Why are you late? One of the Hufflepuffers asked them.

- yes... — the guy who came in scratched his head, — we just got to our tower for a long time, so we didn't have time.

"I wonder why it's—oh," Daphne Greengrass drawled from another part of the office, "I guess you just couldn't tear yourself away from such a delicious breakfast, right?" It was so satisfying, so delicious, - the girl's ulcer still did not want to calm down.

It was immediately obvious that the girl came from a rich family and was simply not used to such a diet, so she was furious at the mysterious lucky ones.

As soon as the poisonous Slytherin reminded about the unfair breakfast, bedlam and chaos threatened to begin between the children again. I did not want to get involved in a calming adventure a second time with a menacing look, fortunately I did not have to.

The cat, which had been lying quietly on the table, suddenly mewed loudly, after which it jumped towards the students and instantly transformed into the formidable Professor McGonagall.

The children were frightened by such a transformation. One of the Ravenclaw students, who had not yet reached his own desk, stumbled in surprise, after which he flew straight forward, eventually flattening himself at the feet of the teacher.

The silence I had been trying to achieve returned to the classroom by itself.

— What a mess you've made here! — from her indignant tone, the freshmen retracted their necks and visually became smaller, subconsciously sensing danger and reacting to it, — for one second I even imagined that this year the freshmen were able to show behavior worthy of a representative of the magical world. And you've just been able to prove the opposite to me. Get up! — whistled the savory sound of a whip strike, — hurry up! — the blow was repeated.

The Ravenclaw covered himself with his hands and at the same time tried to get up, which he did only after several more whistling slaps, which clearly left red marks on his body under the uniform.

"What's your name, mister?" McGonagall adjusted her glasses, glancing at the terrified boy.

—Anthony, s-s-s, Goldstein, Professor," he replied, rubbing his sore arm.

"Take your seat, Mr. Goldstein. And minus five points for your clumsiness.

The boy nodded and hurriedly sat down at his desk, and McGonagall turned her attention to the others:

— For the noise that you made here, I would gladly apply universal punishment for the first year, but it would not be fair to those who tried, and even managed to reason with you for a while, - the professor looked at me, and I, in turn, pretended to be I am a diligent student with an even posture, Mr. Golden.

— Yes, Professor, — I stood up from my seat in a straight stance, although I was not sure that such a thing was necessary.

— You get fifteen points for an acceptably completed assignment at yesterday's ceremony. And ten more, for your commitment to discipline and calling for others to follow it. Sit down.

I did as I was told and exhaled imperceptibly - everything went pretty well, thanks to the knowledge of the canon. The first points I had just earned were already in the form of coins in my pocket, but I think the professor thought that on the morning of the first day none of the freshmen would be able to find that hiding place in the living room. That's why she announced it only now, although she probably gave them to me during the feast.

— Now to you, — McGonagall looked at the row of Ravenclaw students, — maybe you don't know, but being late for lessons, and especially for your first lesson, you leave a corresponding impression about yourself. If my subject is so unimportant to you that you have the audacity to come to it after the bell rings, then at least have the conscience to accept the appropriate consequences.

The freshmen froze in anticipation of punishment, but it never came. Instead, the professor went to her desk, picked up a magazine, and began the roll call. Every time someone answered to her name, she looked closely at the student, clearly memorizing new faces.

— Well, finally, we can move on to the lesson itself. Transfiguration," said words magically began to appear on the board at the same time as her speech, "is the change of an object or the transformation of one object into another. During this year, you and I will go through and master only the basics of transfiguration - changing an inanimate object. However, to understand the complexity and versatility of my subject, I will show you all the possible stages of this discipline.

With these words, McGonagall took out a long wand and began to supplement her words with the use of magic:

— A change in the composition of an inanimate object, — a wave of the wand towards the magic lamp on the ceiling, and instead of an iron one it becomes glass.

— Changing the size and mass of an inanimate object, — now the wand was looking towards the row of Ravenclaw, and their chairs had grown noticeably in size.

— Changing the shape of an inanimate object, — a wave, and wooden spikes sprang up on the enlarged chairs. The children gasped and yelled, but continued to sit in place, in pain.

— The transformation of a living object into an inanimate one, — again the tip of the teacher's wand looks towards the ravens, and Anthony Goldstein disappears, and in his place appears a wooden mannequin of the same size.

The teacher's swift and cruel witchcraft scares everyone to horror, and even Hermione squeezes my hand with force out of fear. However, McGonagall does not think to stop:

— On the contrary, the transformation of an inanimate object into a living one — the desk at which the wooden Anthony was now sitting turns into a pig. Her carcass presses down on the legs of the girl sitting next to her, which is why she forcefully impales herself on the spikes sticking out of the chair. The girl screams, but the teacher is relentless:

— The transformation of one living object into another, — the guy from the back of the Ravenclaw that came in the very first - he also responded to the name Stefan Kornfoot at roll call, suddenly becomes a chimpanzee.

He looks at his hands, and the monkey's face clearly shows alternate grimaces of confusion, awareness and panic. Meanwhile, the professor continues:

— One of the most difficult directions, turning an object out of nothing, is a concentrated wave of a wand, and balls of different sizes appear in the air above the Ravenclaw, which fall with a crash on students, furniture and the floor. Terry Booth did not have time to cover his head with his hands, and one of the balls fell on him with a thud, knocking him out completely.

— And the opposite, the disappearance of the object, — again a wave towards the lamp, and its fastenings simply disappear. He falls between our rows and the crows, shatters, but the Gryffindors are saved by a transparent shield put up by McGonagall, but the unfortunate Ravenclaw covers them with shards.

— The most difficult section in transfiguration is animagia, which positions itself as a separate profile area, but fortunately for you, — McGonagall looked at the rows of students, — I showed it to you at the very beginning.

—Wee-wee," said the frightened pig in complete silence amid the chaos.

—Ay-ay-ay," the girl, wounded in the fifth point, echoed her.

—Wah-wah-ah,— Stefan the chimpanzee added to this exchange.

Never. Never be late for Transfiguration lessons. Thank you, Professor McGonagall, I remember.

— I hope you have realized how versatile and diverse transfiguration is, and you will no longer treat my subject condescendingly. Did you realize that? The remaining students nodded vigorously.

— Then we can consider this demonstration over.

The professor began to conjure again, canceling her spells and restoring order. Anthony and Stefan turned back into people: the first one actively breathed, as if he had just surfaced from under the water, and the second began to feel his body sharply, fearing that some part of the monkey might remain. The broken lamp came together, turned into iron again and went back up to the fasteners that appeared there. The scattered balls disappeared, the pig became a table again, and the scattered things of the students in the air took their original places. Even the chairs had shrunk in size, but the spines that had grown did not even think to disappear.

— Professor McGonagall, and the spikes? — one of the Ravenclaw decided to ask, who even got up from his chair without asking, apparently considering this to be the teacher's forgetfulness. I think the crazy raven's name was Roger.

— Mr. Malone, did someone let you get up?

— But there are thorns!

— And during these two lessons they will remind you about the inadmissibility of being late.

— But they're sharp! How to sit on them? It hurts!

I mentally said goodbye to the recaptured Ravenclaw. Maybe one of those balloons fell on his head, and this is such a perverted form of concussion?

"Oh, it hurts, Mr. Malone...

A series of sharp swings of the wand followed from the professor: one of the cabinets standing on the sides opened, and Roger flew in with great speed, after which the doors slammed shut, and screams were heard from inside.

— You don't know anything about pain yet... So! Let's return to the topic of the lesson," McGonagall said, finally putting a silencing spell on the cabinet, "Each of the directions of transfiguration has its own characteristics, and the duration of transformed objects and objects is the topic of a separate, more in—depth lesson. For example, as you noticed in Mr. Goldstein's experiment, a living being cannot live long in an inanimate state: it will simply suffocate. Or, let's say, animals transformed from inanimate. They have an artificial basic set of behaviors suitable for their final transformation. Such animals are indistinguishable from ordinary ones, and can exist for a long time, remember this... Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, did you hear what I said?

The boys sitting behind me were startled by the sudden appeal to them and nodded timidly.

— Well, I hope that this is so, — the professor continued, — this year we will study with you two directions of transfiguration - a change in composition and a change in size with mass. For each of them, there is a separate wave of the wand and a spell that you will pronounce aloud before comprehending non-verbal magic. Take your chopsticks and someone will wake up Mr. Booth.

Terry, who had been out for some time, was successfully shaken, after which all the sticks were ready to work.

— Now the swing itself, necessary to change the composition of the object, — the professor conjured an illusion of a picture in the air with a looped, repetitive movement of the wand, — practice it until you achieve perfect execution. I'll let you know if such a moment does come.

That's how this lesson went. We practiced the swing, then again, and again. I lost my way in the sixth dozen strokes when my arm started to go numb too much. Meanwhile, out of the corner of my eye, I watched with pity how the Ravenclaw were suffering, and the girl sitting at the desk with Anthony was crying silently. Red shades could be seen on her chair if desired. And McGonagall didn't give a damn about it.

The ringing of the bell was a salvation for us, however, as it turned out, we were overjoyed early.

— Do not think that this ringing is for you. In double lessons, recess time can be usefully spent, since you do not need to move to another room. Keep swinging! Mr. Golden.

— Yes, Professor, — I responded to the call, although my hand automatically continued to draw a sickening pattern with a stick.

— May I assume that you have looked at the layout of the Hogwarts classrooms?

— Yes, Professor.

"And do you know where the hospital wing is?"

I strained my memory, remembering where it stood. What a blessing that it occurred to me then to look not only at the transfiguration room.

—Ground floor, opposite side of the main staircase," I replied with a slight hesitation.

— That's fine. Would you be so kind as to escort Miss Roper and Mr. Malone," saying the second name, she opened the cupboard with a spell, from which a bloody Roger fell out, and many blades were visible inside, "to Madam Pomfrey, our healer. Leave them there and go back to class. The locomotive! — said the professor, which caused the unconscious boy's body to soar up and float in my direction.

— Of course, Professor. It will be done," I got up, went over and helped Sophie Roper, the girl who was particularly badly hurt because of the thorns, get up. She leaned on my arm through her sobs and limped towards the exit, with Roger's body hovering behind us.

There was a lot of activity in the corridor - senior students were moving from class to class, going down or up the marble stairs. Each of them whispered and followed our wounded procession with sympathetic glances, however, as I thought, no one dared to come closer. It was quite strange to feel such massive indifference from others. And you had to get used to this feeling.

Somehow, when I reached the door of the hospital room, I knocked. The door opened:

— Oh, dear, freshmen? And so soon..." Madam Pomfrey accepted the injured from me, "are you hurt yourself?" Does anything hurt?

I shook my head negatively.:

— No, madam, I have to go back to class. I just delivered them.

— Well, go, go, — she waved her hand, — we will definitely meet you soon, and get to know each other, and talk... What's your name? My dear, where does it hurt? The healer switched to Sophie, and the door closed behind them.

There was something wrong with Madam Pomfrey. She was friendly, caring, and sympathetic, it seemed, to every unfortunate person who appeared on her doorstep. That was not normal. After all, kindness does not exist in this school.

Thinking about it, I went back to the Transfiguration room. It's good that at least my hand got a little rest before drawing the same thing through the air with a stick again.

***

Enchantment

— By the next lesson, I expect you to pronounce the spell perfectly along with a similar wave so that we can start practicing. Everyone, everyone is free.

As soon as McGonagall finished her speech after the end of the second lesson, the Ravenclaw were the very first to jump up. I don't even want to imagine what it's like to sit for an hour and a half on sharp spikes that stick into your soft tissues without stopping.

There were, of course, those who could not stand such agony, even despite the vivid example of Roger's punishment. And if the professor simply removed the points from the first student who got up, then the second one has already received several painful blows with a whip. After that, the crows showed excellent self-control, causing, in addition to pity, respect from other faculties.

Our next lesson was a Spell lesson, and it took place right on the seventh floor, not far from the entrance to Ravenclaw's living room. Since the lessons of the first and second year were common to all faculties, a large company of us began to climb the floors through movable stairs.

Sophie and Roger found us and managed to catch up with us, who looked quite healthy.

— Madam Pomfrey pulled off and covered our wounds with spells, and gave us a drink of a hematopoietic potion. Everything went very quickly, in about thirty minutes, but we did not dare to return to class, especially since Roger was still recovering," Sophie shared information with her classmates.

The effectiveness of the healing here was amazing. Thanks to magic, any half-dead student who has lived to receive magical medical care can be completely fine in just half an hour.

Although, I'm probably exaggerating here. After all, Sophie and Roger suffered only skin damage, and there was varying degrees of blood loss, which really heals quite quickly. What about the other cases? Broken bones, loss of limbs, internal injuries? And I still don't remember about all kinds of curses and other types of negative magical effects. I think in these cases, the healing lasts much longer and more painful, and irreversible consequences are quite likely.

For personal safety, it was necessary to study this issue with all care.

Going up to the upper floors, no one wanted to talk about the transfiguration lesson itself. Everyone just asked about the well-being of the injured ravens, and complained to each other about stiff wrists. The Ravenclaw had bruises and minor cuts of varying degrees, but nothing critical was found for contacting the hospital wing.

— Keep your eyes open, today we saw how one of the stairs suddenly turned over, and undergraduates only miraculously did not fall down, — Finigan informed other faculties meanwhile.

I was not against his active education. I would have done it myself, but I still don't know if the students are grateful to me for pacifying them in time and thereby helping them avoid punishment. Or they don't like me, because compared to the others in my relationship with McGonagall, I look like a kind of good boy who, for his own favoritism, executes all the professor's instructions. I don't really like it myself, but it's better than learning the teacher's anger over and over again.

It was worth admitting that Seamus only talked about things related to the danger to life. For example, he did not say a word about the discovered cache of points that can be converted into coins. Nevertheless, it was I who solved this riddle, and it was up to me to decide whether to tell the rest of the faculties about it or let them figure it out for themselves. And I was immensely pleased that eleven-year-old Seamus understood this.

We got to the enchantment room without incident, and this time the door was immediately open. The office was different from the previous one: instead of four rows of desks, there were the same number of double long cabinets with wooden benches on the sides, for each of which, if desired, a dozen adults could fit, and even children and all fifteen pieces. The teacher's desk was littered with books on all sides, of which there were some colossal numbers. They stood on cupboards and on distant tables, piled up at the writing board that stood against the wall in the center, and even clung to a part of the ceiling.

And again, the professor was not in the office.

"We won't fall for this a second time," the students thought, and fell silent quite quickly as soon as they sat down in similar places — Gryffindor and Hufflepuff were on the right, and we decided to sit at the nearest curbstones. Slytherin and Ravenclaw mirrored us on the left.

We found ourselves facing each other with snakes, but there was no hostility between us yet, and it's not entirely clear where it would come from here at all. The lessons are the same, we study them together. Undergraduates ignore us, which means they will not involve us in inter-faculty conflicts. Well, the dangers and other tin things that are happening here, on the contrary, bring us closer together.

It's funny, but the break was still going on, and we just sat in silence, waiting for Professor Flitwick. A minute passed, then another, and the bell rang.

A barely audible knock broke the silence. It was repeated, but louder, and it happened from time to time more and more often.

— Where is he coming from? Hermione asked me.

— There, — I pointed with my finger, — do you see some kind of chest? It's coming out of him.

The students looked at the strange chest, and meanwhile a voice began to be heard from it:

— Hey, can anyone hear me? Let me out, please!

"Someone's been locked up there,— one of the Slytherins said, making an obvious guess.

"Do you think it was Professor Char?" — the neighbor asked him with fear.

— I don't know how to know. But it sounds logical, it's his office, and probably his trunk, too.

— Please, — the voice from the chest continued to scream, banging on the lid from the inside with force, — nothing is visible here, and it's hard to breathe! Please help me!

Someone became emboldened, and in the absence of the professor decided to come closer. It became like a trigger mechanism - the rest followed the student. As a result, the places behind the cabinets were almost empty, and a wide semicircle formed near the chest.

— Let's let him out, he's scared there, — suggested the hufflepuff.

— Yeah, but what if they put him there for the case? Maybe he's violent or bewitched," Seamus found something to say.

What was happening couldn't logically fit into my head. So Professor Flitwick put one of the undergraduates in a trunk in the previous lesson, and then... Have you safely forgotten about him? He went off on his goblin-dwarf business, and still hasn't shown up, even though the lesson has already begun? Somehow I could hardly believe it.

It is more logical to assume that this is another test, which we had from McGonagall when she was sitting under the guise of a cat. But what are they trying to get from us here? Will we help the senior?

And which of the options will we be punished for? For helping and intervening, or for leaving the student to suffocate? It's kind of stupid.

What is it, if not a test? I couldn't answer this question, and it lost its relevance, because soon everything turned out by itself:

"If they could get me out of that cabinet with the blades, I'd be grateful," Roger said angrily, "whatever you want, and I'll help him get out."

But as soon as the boy touched the handle of the chest, it abruptly slammed open, and instead of the senior there was some kind of slush of an incomprehensible color.

— I was released! Released," the voice distorted, and the rough baritone continued, —it's time for coloring books, muwa-ha-ha!

Drops of different colors began to rapidly separate from the slurry, which began to fly towards the students who were caught off guard.

— Close it! Close it! Hermione shouted, having already realized that it was clearly not necessary to release this something.

At that moment, I was sitting in my seat, as I was not eager to be in the center of events this time, preferring to watch what was happening from afar.

A couple of boys from different faculties were already overtaken by incomprehensible drops, but despite this they managed to lean on the lid of the chest, trying their best to close it. However, it did not budge for a moment, and the contents continued to spit out drops one by one. The children scattered in different directions, but the drops reached everyone, repainting their skin in all the colors of the rainbow.

Honestly, for some reason I thought that those who stayed at their place of study would not be affected. Why did I think that? Well, I probably assumed that this was still some kind of abnormal test, and dreamed that I would simply pass it without doing anything. And I was wrong.

When all the closest students painted themselves in one of the colors, the new drops chose other, distant targets. Thus, less than a minute after opening the chest, all the freshmen turned out to be from the festival of colors, only each of them was painted in a separate color, and their clothes were not damaged in any way.

A yellow drop flew into me, apparently matching my last name. I felt as if something was spreading all over my body, seemingly causing no discomfort.

In the midst of all this bedlam, the trunk closed just as suddenly, and Professor Flitwick appeared at the teacher's desk, smiling. And how did he end up there in the first place? Have you been hiding under the table all this time?

The professor himself looked creepy. In the movies, it was almost not noticeable, but in reality, goblin blood seriously left its mark on the appearance of the teacher. His skin was greenish-pale and wrinkled, his eyes radiated a yellow-green sheen, his teeth were too big and ugly, and his ears were completely goblin-pointed at the tips. Dwarfed stature and a sly smile complemented the picture in its worst manifestations, and created the image of a clearly different Filius Flitwick, who was completely unfamiliar to me.

— Hello, kids. I see your pens have managed to open one of my funny toys," the professor giggled, "well," he looked through his bicycle glasses at a miniature wristwatch, "in a couple of seconds you will be able to smile!

Meanwhile, the children quickly ran to their places, after which everything began:

— Ay, ay, pinch, ay-ay! The girl who first offered to open the chest shouted.

— Shh, it hurts! It burns! Roger shouted restlessly.

The children began to suffer, twitch, hiss and itch with chain lightning. Soon I felt their situation myself.

Burning sensation. Sudden, starting all over the body at the same time, starting from the toes and ending with the ears. Unpleasant, inexorable, painful. I couldn't ignore this feeling, I wanted to do anything to stop this continuous itching at least for a little bit. And everyone was suffering from it now, except the teacher.

— Why are you so unhappy? Don't you want to smile? Well," he paused dramatically, offended, "then sit like this. But how do I conduct a lesson in this case? — he raised his head up, and looking at the ceiling, assumed the most thoughtful expression that such a face can generally carry out.

Professor Flitwick is crazy. Fine, just fine. And how else does he feel about him after his actions and words? What kind of smile is there if the whole body burns to horror - then either howl or cry.

But surely there must be some meaning in his words? Smile... We didn't smile, and he was surprised... Was there some mistake in the enchantment when creating that goo? That's how he would fix it. What did he mean by that? Maybe you need to smile not for something, but for ...? To relieve itching!?

Like an idiot or a madman, during my own torment, I opened my mouth wide in the semblance of a smile, which was one hundred percent more like the grin of a madman. And voila! The burning sensation disappeared as if it had never existed! I took away the smile, and it came back. He smiled again, this time slightly, with just his lips. It helped again!

Flitwick noticed my success:

— Excellent! Wonderful! At least someone has finally decided to smile! Five points, mister?

—Golden, Professor," my smile made my speech sound sugary.

— Five points for Mr. Golden!

Our interaction with Flitwick attracted the attention of the others. I hinted at my smile, hoping that they would have the brains to guess. It was enough. Soon the whole class breathed a sigh of relief - everything was over. The picture of the usual beginning of the lesson was spoiled only by colorful students, and stupid smiles on their faces, which for the most part looked even a little comical.

"As you, hee-hee, have already understood, I will teach you Charms! — Flitwick was overwhelmed by some kind of excessive artistry. It seemed that he was not teaching a lesson at a school of magic, but performing in some kind of theater, in the role of a caricatured mad scientist.

— Enchantment... Magic... mmm... Everything that happens in the magical world is created by enchantment. This is a constant of magical nature! Their sheer diversity in their own monumentality cannot be imagined by the human mind in a thousand years! Spells, runes, rituals... Alas, this colossus of magical knowledge has been split into pieces. But at the heart of everything is Enchantment! So, uh-uh... — Flitwick looked at a piece of paper lying under the table, — first year, yes... Basic spells, the basics of witchcraft, the initial enchantment of objects... The half—goblin's face tried to show us all the disappointment of the world, but somehow it didn't work out very well. Although, he will understand our impressions in his own way - we smile all the time.

Behaving in a similar way, Professor Flitwick got to know the class with the help of a list of students miraculously found in the deposits of books. Then he talked and talked and talked: he admired magic, the subject he taught, and his acting...

"...It's better not to touch enchanted items, as you did with the chest, and-heh. Many things can harbor different charms, from quite harmless ones, like here — I don't think any of us would agree with that -to dangerous curses, which, alas, are studied in another discipline. Who can tell me how to avoid the effects of such charms? Mm-hmm... Maybe Mr. Malfoy? Draco rose unsteadily from the table. His wide smile looked especially unnatural on his face, "although, no, no, sit down. Maybe, uh, Miss Bones? — the hufflepuff repeated the actions of the previous defendant, but he stopped everything again, — no, and you also sit back down. I want to ask you something... — amazingly, the goblin began to spin around its axis with its eyes closed and an outstretched finger with a long green claw, — You! His finger stopped right on Harry.

— Uh, to avoid the effects of the spell, you need to, uh... Harry obviously didn't know the answer, but he was trying to come up with something to the best of his ability.

— That's right! Avoid touching the enchanted item with any magical component! After all, without touching, there will be no activation of charms! Five points to Mr. Potter for an absolutely accurate answer! Remember, Mr. Potter, such a good idea! And sit down.

No one understood anything about what was happening. It was unclear whether to take such a circus seriously, or to take Flitwick's outrageous eccentricity for granted.

All I personally wanted was to finally get rid of this jaundiced color from my skin, and relax my cheekbones, which were incredibly tired of maintaining a smile on my face.

The lesson is over.

— Guys, we are not saying goodbye to you. There's going to be a Spell lesson again tomorrow, and we're going to have some fun, okay? I see that you agree, excellent, just wonderful! One point for each freshman, for such a perky attitude! That's it, run to lunch.

— Professor, and ... — Hermione raised her hand, trying to unobtrusively hint at the remaining paint.

Flitwick understood her perfectly, but there is a nuance:

— Well, you don't think I'm going to let my coloring books go out with you for lunch, do you? They can get lost there! So don't even ask, as soon as you leave the office, my mischief-makers will return to daddy.

And so it happened - in the corridor we began to look human again, and we could finally remove the smiles from our faces.

— well... Seamus said, rubbing the cracked edges of his own lips, "at least he didn't cripple a quarter of the class. Not so bad, if you think about it.

That's how our first Spell lesson went.