Harry Potter: New World

It is enough just to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Whether a series of accidents, or a coincidence, but now I have to be reborn in a completely different world. A forced entity that controls the flows of souls in one of the branches of the worlds, contrary to its desire and dislikes for "anomalies", is obliged to give out powers and bonuses - these are the rules. What will life be like for someone who was not destined to survive? If you want to support me or read ahead: https://www.patreon.com/HPMan At least one chapter every day!

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Chapter 29

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Upon arrival at the great hall, we hastened to take our seats. At our table, the guys were whispering and trying to find out where Harry and Ron had gone. Right here, at the big table, the most ridiculous rumors were born from the fusion of the train seen outside the windows and speculation of fantasy. But the conversation subsided as soon as McGonagall ushered in the frightened first years into the Great Hall. Well, not that scared, but they were panicked and worried for sure.

We watched the distribution with mediocre interest, although we supported those entering our House with applause. From those who I more or less know from the tale of Potter, Colin Creevey and the seventh Weasley joined us. If the first one looked like that curly blonde guy from the movie, then the seventh Weasley was prettier. Although ... everyone has their own idea of ​​beauty. I just noted a not so square oval face. More proportional features and less thin lips. Why am I surprised?! Here everything is somewhat different, and this very "somewhat" can vary from an imperceptible minimum to entirely different people.

In addition to these two, I could not miss the familiar surnames. Lovegood, for example. Floating blonde with a shock of long curly hair. Or here's Astoria Greengrass. Almost the opposite of a sister. A brunette with a mischievous, lively look. She reacted happily to "Slytherin!" from the hat and cheerfully settled down next to her sister. Strange though, isn't she kind of even younger? Or not? Oh, it doesn't matter. It doesn't really matter.

Of course, these were not all newcomers, but somehow it was not particularly interesting to me.

After the distribution, Dumbledore introduced Lockhart, pompous to the pain in the eyes, and Snape left the room. The meal, with plenty of food, was remarkably calm in Ron's absence. I never even noticed before how this redhead managed to bring a piece of chaos to any event. Now the Gryffindor table was just a noisy place with a bunch of funny, careless, and frivolous people. Maybe they did not shine here with table etiquette, but everything was within limits of decency.

After the feast, everyone hurried to the living rooms, and Hermione and I were no exception. We settled down on a sofa in a dark corner and just watched. The twins tried to provoke some of the younger ones into Gryffindors stupidity and sign up for an "experimental bunny" role. Several groups of girls of different ages were discussing something and giggling, flipping through magazines, someone was playing chess, someone was eagerly exchanging impressions of the holidays. And everyone was looking forward to Harry and Ron's arrival. The fact that they flew to school in a car was known to many, but it turned out that they also crashed into a Whomping Willow, smashed the Ford, which left them by leaving in the forest.

When Harry and Ron entered the living room, many rushed to express their admiration for this indeed Gryffindor act.

"This is some kind of madness..." Hermione shook her head.

"Madness? It's Gryffindor!" I answered with a pretentious look and immediately got a jab in the side.

"I hope it's not contagious," Hermione looked at me with a smile.

"You know, me too."

The party about how Harry and Ron returned to school continued for quite some time, but Hermione decided to go to bed. I must go too.

For two long weeks at Hogwarts, students spent time talking about Harry and Ron's fabulous appearance. Only in mid-September, the excitement subsided, but Malfoy was in no hurry to give up, every now and then trying to somehow hurt either Harry or Ron. Draco was especially good at the latter because Ron does not have such a quality of character as a restraint. The howler from Molly Weasley added fuel to the fire. No need to guess who it was intended for. So, Ron received his longed-for piece of fame in full.

The DADA lessons were taught this year by the famous writer Gilderoy Lockhart. There were a lot of people looking forward to it, and I can't blame them. If you do not focus on some details, Lockhart is indeed a star who skillfully uses it. In the absence of serious competition in his industry, he is truly unique. He attracts glances, attention, literally forcing them to talk about himself. And if not for one of his flaws - excessive, simply boundless vanity, he would have had more respect for himself. But...

Before our first DADA lesson, a new local photographer showed himself. Colin Creevey blinded everyone with a sudden flash by photographing Potter. Lockhart suddenly appeared from around the corner in an ivory suit and robe. He immediately took Potter and Creevey into circulation, took a couple of joint pictures, and hinted to Potter about his actions' correctness.

"Giving out autographed photos at this stage of your career is the height of prudence," Lockhart grinned. "The time will come, and you, like me now, will need to have a pack of such photos ready."

After his speech, Lockhart walked into the DADA office, allowing us to sit in our places. It amused me how some of the Slytherins still grimaced at what they saw - Harry and Lockhart posing for the Creevey.

We took our seats, and as I looked at Hermione, I saw hope in her eyes. Obviously, she hoped that Lockhart would still be a good teacher.

"Do not hope for the best to be less disappointed," not expecting from myself, I spoke quietly so that only Hermione could hear.

"Who said that?"


Lockhart walked around the classroom, examined everyone with a smile, took a book from the first desk that came to hand. "By the path of the trolls." Our new professor defiantly lifted the book and showed his portrait on the cover, completely copying the pose and smile.

"It's me," he said, winking immediately. As well as a portrait. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Knight of the Order of Merlin of the third degree, honorary member of the League of Defense Against the Dark Forces, and five-time winner of the Magic Weekly prize for the most charming smile. But let's not talk about it."

Lockhart returned the book to its owner, Neville, and continued.

"Believe me, I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her."

A couple of students smiled sourly while Hermione and I looked closely at the professor. A plan suddenly appeared in my head. Ingenious and insane... Although it is not insane at all - it will work. I leaned closer to Hermione, not taking my eyes off Lockhart, and whispered softly:

"Let him believe that we admire him. This is our pass to the Forbidden Section."

Hermione thought for a couple of seconds and realized the prospects. Her eyes lit up with enthusiasm. The stranger might have thought that the girl suddenly fell in love with Lockhart. But I know she fell in love with the prospect of being in the Forbidden Section of the Hogwarts Library. Meanwhile, Lockhart continued to talk.

"I see you all bought a complete set of my books. How wonderful it is! Let's start the lesson with a test, but don't be alarmed! I just want to check how carefully you read them and what you learned..."

Lockhart walked around the classroom, handing out the sheets with questions to everyone, returned to the teacher's table, and smiled dazzlingly.

"I'll give you half an hour. You can start."

I immediately turned to Hermione.

"Don't misunderstand, but I didn't read them."

"From the point of view of the educational process, that was right." Hermione nodded. "I remember them all. I will help."


Together we answered all sorts of absurd questions, the essence of which was completely reduced to a description of Lockhart, his interests, preferences, desires, and other personal things. At the end of the allotted time, we handed over the work, and Lockhart quickly examined the results. As a result, he lamented that few students are really familiar with his work and, in fact, are not his fans. However, he praised ... the drum roll ... Hermione's, and my work and awarded us ten points each. Oh, how many strange and reproachful looks from the students I noticed, with difficulty restraining a smile!

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