HP: Spirit Talker

POV Neville Longbottom

— Oh, hello, Neville! Expecting someone?

— Hey guys, Hermione. — The guy was really sitting at that table, looking at the entrance to the Great Hall, although he would occasionally look around at the tables, including those of other faculties. — Yeah, I've been looking for Hoshino, but he's nowhere to be found and no one knows where he's gone... .... — he sighed heavily.

— What do you need him for? I wanted to talk to him myself, but he's literally been disappearing for two days now... .... — Hermione frowned at her failures and decided to ask Harry to find the elusive student using the Marauder's Map today.

— Right, — the boy nodded. — I can't find him either. I need him to get permission to look at the trees he planted in the greenhouse.

— What kind of trees? — The girl was interested. — I don't remember.

— They are in the most unused part of the greenhouse. Trees aren't very interesting, but the way he stimulates growth — it's quite strange...

— Come on, they're just ordinary shrubs, what could be interesting about them? — Ron waved his hand, almost knocking over the pitcher of stew that had just been served, thanks to the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff heads. — Let's take a walk while it's still light, shall we? Or fly?

— No, first Harry will help me find and catch Hoshino, and then you can fly all you want. — The girl involuntarily touched the beautiful barrette that held her ponytail in place. Once in the library, Hermione couldn't find the information she needed, which made her angry at everything in the world, including her own hair. Hoshino, after watching her for a while, just brazenly and unapologetically pulled her hair into a fluffy ponytail and pinned it up with a beautiful hairpin in the shape of a childish animal. When asked where he got it, he just shrugged, which was all he could do. — I advise you to continue your studies, or are you counting on my help again?

As lunch was over and the students began to disperse, the four Gryffindors saw Hagrid carrying on his shoulder a large bundle of some sort of worked wood, so large it was surprising.

— Hello, Hagrid! — The children greeted each other almost in unison. — Where are you carrying all that? — Harry asked in a general way.

— Hi. — The half-giant smiled, slowing down slightly so the children could keep up with him. — Just trying to help, that's all. Yes, to help!

— One of the Deans? — the only girl asked.

— No. This one. The new one of your boys. Chinese or Korean?

— Japanese? — Neville spoke up.

— Oh, right, Japanese! He, uh, he took a repair job. He came up to me and asked me where I could cut down some trees. At first I didn't understand what he wanted, but then we agreed, and here I am helping... well, that is... for a little "gratitude"...

The teenagers looked at each other, not understanding what was going on, so they decided to find out. When they came to one of the corridors on the fourth floor, they heard voices and various noises. At the end of the corridor, where Hagrid was going, there was a wide entrance to a large hall.

The first thing they saw was a tall man in a tracksuit, sneakers and some kind of strange cap. The noise was caused by house elves doing various jobs, and although the creatures themselves were ordinary, it was their clothes that stunned all four of them. What ordinary English wizard would dress his elves in anything more elaborate than the usual toga?

 Here, each elf wore blue pants and a jacket made of jeans, low, rough boots, and a strange headdress that resembled a tambourine, but without side plates. The rest, like various building materials, half-dismantled floors, empty window openings, and Lovegood chatting sweetly with a blonde Slytherin girl, somehow didn't "fit" at all. And that, in general, almost put me in a state of cognitive dissonance.

— Left! I wish you'd never see your pass before you die! Left, I say! — The guy in the Muggle tracksuit pointed to the right for some reason. — What are you doing?! — The guy spat under his feet with some completely incomprehensible intonation in his voice.

— But you said, "Left..." — One of the house elves spoke softly with an equally strange intonation.

— Are you completely stupid? Don't you know where 'left' is? — and the guy pointed in the opposite direction, the elf froze with an expression as if he was about to cry.

— But, uh...

— Where it goes, it goes left, you know, Jamshut?

— But I... — The house-elf raised her voice shyly, but was cut off by a confident, unyielding tone.

— Either Ravshan or Jamshut is working here, there is no other way! Or are you Ravshan?

— But I am...

— Which one of us is the boss, me or you, Jamshut?

— You're the boss.

— That's right. — He nodded very importantly, with a kind of spiritualized look. — And the orders of the warden are not to be discussed! Go, Jamshut! — the guy said in a heroic pose, pointing his finger at the workplace.

— Yes, Warden... — The elf lowered his head, flattened his ears and obediently went back to work, obediently following the order "left" pointing in the opposite direction.

Hagrid seemed to pay no attention to the scene, but the four teenagers were literally floating. A little later, they were even a little frightened, for the wizard's logic seemed completely wild and incomprehensible. Under his command, however, the elves worked quickly and productively, even though they resembled zombies without the slightest thought in their eyes. That made it even more frightening.

The teenagers didn't really talk to the guy, only Hermione talked to him sometimes, and even then only about lessons. That was why none of the four of them, unlike Luna and Astoria, had ever noticed an open enjoyment of his productions. The girls saw how much fun Sora had dressing up the house elf in those "overalls and work boots", were almost happy when the elves began to obediently respond to strange names and call him "Warden".

And on the second day, the girls themselves began to quietly amuse themselves with the boy's strange words and performances. Daphne was here with Tracey, and she urged her sister to turn her attention to someone else. But no way! What could compare to the greatness of ACDC. or the Rolling Stones or Rammstein or any of the other legends?

Astoria even asked her mother to send her a set of dark make-up and a leather jacket, but Lady Greengrass only promised her a good, strong cowhide belt if she found out that her daughter had ruined her beautiful hair.

Astoria wasn't too upset, she had asked Sora for a leather jacket as a Christmas present. Other paraphernalia, like band logos or beautiful shiny skulls, the girl adapted to make her own with the help of transfiguration and charms.

By the way, Astoria is a very nice, sociable girl, so she has friends in different faculties, so that even now, among the junior students who have a musical pendant, there are kids with an iron lightning bolt on their lapel, or a skull, or a cross. The faculty doesn't pay much attention to it, but the influence of music has already captured the minds of many children and teenagers.

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