23
Hogwarts, eighth floor corridor, after lights out.
The castle corridor was dark and cold. The wind blew along the walls. His gusts reached such strength that even if there were deciduous trees here, they would have lost most of their foliage.
Through the huge windows pure moonlight fell. Shadows walked in his domain. In contrast to it, single torches burned on the walls. There were clearly not enough of them to disperse the darkness of the night.
Countless living portraits hung on the walls of the corridor. They depicted both famous personalities of the magical world and those unknown to most ordinary people.
Each portrait was individual. One depicted a knight who, on a faithful steed, participated in the chase. Somewhere, ancient sages were depicted studying countless manuscripts, or writing them themselves.
But there was something strange about them. Everyone who was in these portraits was sleeping. Yes, yes, they fell into a real dream. Amazing isn't it? They were literally alive.
Someone muttered in his sleep. Someone couldn't lie down in one place. They were all in motion, albeit minimally.
Only one picture stood out from the general background. She wasn't alive.
It depicted a middle-aged man, most likely a magician, who had learned the ballet of a real troll. The troll himself was depicted in a ballerina dress. Strange combination, don't you think?
It was at this painting that the mysterious silhouette stopped. What was his mystery, you ask. The fact is that it was not possible to make out his faces and belongings to the house.
He was dressed in baggy clothes and was about the height of a 15-16 year old. His face was covered by a deep hood. You couldn't see his face, you couldn't even make out his chin.
If someone manages to look under the hood, the only thing he will see are two bright, amber eyes.
At the moment, the figure stopped at a remarkable painting. After standing for a few seconds, he began to walk in different directions in a straight line, along the picture. After walking like this three times, he stopped.
At the same moment the silhouette stopped, a door appeared to the right of the picture. It looked like the most ordinary door in this castle: massive, thick, reliable.
After standing for about a minute, the unknown guest opened the door and entered the room that lay behind it.
September 8, Hogwarts, Ravenclaw room, early morning.
Sitting in front of the fireplace in the morning, with a book in my hands, I thought. My first week at Hogwarts is coming to an end. Now I can sum up this week without affecting tonight. I have plans for him.
During this week, I was able to form an initial opinion about education at school, as well as about life in it.
Here we should immediately clarify - Hogwarts boarding school. The children live here most of the year, so they need something to do. This doesn't work out with lessons, too little, by the way, there is also a reason for this.
What about the children? Most kids just sit around. Many Muggle-borns after Hog are empty space. And this is exactly what it sounds like, they are not adapted to life both in the magic world and in the ordinary one.
In contrast, children of aristocrats. They know exactly what they will do after Hog. This can be seen from themselves.
Of course there are exceptions. There are Muggle-borns who are trying to drink more. At the beginning, they bend over backwards to get something.
I dare hope that I belong to the latter group. And besides, I have full knowledge of both the school curriculum and medical universities. What can I say – a fruitful childhood in a family of highly qualified doctors.
Perhaps we should devote more time to education...
September 3, morning, Hogwarts dungeon.
A gloomy office that seemed filled with shadows. This is the best description you can come up with for the potions class.
Cold, large room. Along one wall there were stands with boilers, along the other there were cabinets with books and, probably, ingredients. The center of the hall was filled with tables for students. Opposite them were three things: the teacher's desk, the blackboard, and tables. That's probably all that was in the classroom.
At the moment, the tables for students were not empty; representatives of two faculties were sitting at them: crows and badgers.
***
Having entered the class as one of the last, this time the faculties entered the class together, and not separately as before, I found myself in the potions class. My first impression: everything complies with safety regulations. Sufficient distance between stands and tables, as well as enchantment at work stations. In the magician's vision, they stood out clearly against the main background. At least I hope it's a protective charm.
During this time that I examined the class, all the children sat down. Having looked at everyone, I headed to a certain table.
A slightly plump boy was sitting at the table, who was currently nervously looking around the office. It was Neville Longbot.
- Hi, do you mind if I sit next to you? - he approached and asked a question.
Looking at me nervously, he replied:
-Of course, sit down.
Sitting down, I continued:
-My name is Calder Wilson, and you are Neville, right? "I think that's what Professor Sprout called you," I told him, holding out my hand.
-Y-yes, that's right. "I'm Neville Longobot, nice to meet you Calder," he answered with an uncertain smile, shaking the outstretched hand.
I'm pleased too, Neville. Do you mind if we call other friends by name? We still have at least 5 years of studying together, but it's not very convenient to address each other by last name, don't you think? So, do you mind? - Having received a nod in response, I continued. - Great, then call me Calder, or Kol. That's what my family calls me, I'm already used to it.
-Then you call me Nev.
- That is great. A! "I will also call you Nev," my face broke into a smile, or something like it...
From that moment our communication began, and perhaps friendship in the future.
Our conversation did not last long. As soon as we got to know each other, the bell rang. With the bell ringing, our professor, Severus Snape, entered the office. What can you say about him? He is very similar to his movie version.
The same Tall, thin, rather even slightly bony (although I won't say that the robe hides the figure well); greasy hair, about shoulder length; incredibly dark eyes that seemed like tunnels in his pale face; a dark mantle that, like a cloak, developed behind him as he moved. Hogwarts Horror, or Vampire. That's what they call him in Hoga. I must say, these "titles" suit him.
Stopping at his desk, the professor looked at us and said:
-Welcome to potions class, my name is Severus Snape. I am both the Potions teacher and the Head of Slytherin. You can address me as Professor or Professor Snape," he fell silent for a while, thereby allowing us to think about the words he said, and continued.
You are here to master the subtle art of preparing medicines and potions," he began. He spoke almost in a whisper, but the children hung on every word - Snape knew how to hold an audience - he did not have to make the slightest effort to ensure that there was absolute silence in the classroom. —Since there is practically no waving of a magic wand, most of you will assume that this is not magic. I don't expect you to truly understand the beauty of the gently bubbling cauldron with its brilliant aroma, the fragile energy of the liquid that moves through the veins, enchanting the mind, heightening the senses... I can teach you how to seize glory, cook triumph, even thwart death - unless you're like the bunch of idiots I usually have to teach.
Having said this no doubt important and memorized phrase, he fell silent. Turning to the board, with a wave of his wand, he wrote on it: Potions.
"Potions," Severus continued in a quiet but also deep voice. "Many people consider this, undoubtedly important, science to be useless or the prerogative of weak magicians. This statement can be taken in two ways," turning to face us, Snape stood at his desk. -Without a doubt, potions are subject to any level of magicians, both weakly snares and incredibly powerful magicians. Also, all potion recipes have the usual instructions, so anyone can brew them. But! – his statement seemed like a shout because of the quiet voice, as well as the silence that hovered in the class. -But... You will never finish brewing potions if you do not thoroughly study the material, as well as delve into the process of brewing potions... This is a separate branch of art, not only of magic, but also of nature itself.
The class fell silent. Everyone stared at the professor with intrigue. His words left no one unanswered. Something stirred in everyone's soul. Even for me. Even though I have already read this both in the books on potion brewing and in the books provided by Lord Black.
A chuckle was heard.
I see you were inspired by my speech, I hope at least one of you learned something new or important for yourself. Now let's get down to the subject itself. Open your textbooks to the first chapter, it's also the introduction, it's also a collection of all the safety rules that should be followed when brewing potions. And Merlin forbid you don't learn these rules by heart. But if such individuals do appear... well, I always have enough worms to cut up, and you have your time in the evenings, don't you? - Nodding to his words, he again approached the board. -Let's write it down. The main postulates of brewing a potion...
The further lesson passed under the noise of the professor's voice, as well as the sound of a pen scratching on parchment.
***
From the first lectures on brewing potions, the following can be deduced - Snape deserves to be called a Potions Master. Just talking about them, it was as if he was remembering the best moments in his life. Every word was filled with emotion as well as meaning.
It is also worth mentioning that he presented knowledge in a more understandable language than in books, as well as more information than in them. And this is captivating. For example, the same hair.
The rules say: "Prevent any influence of extraneous charms on the product of your work. Also, getting hair into the cauldron is prohibited, under pain of death. A common example: fire - getting caught by hair causes a spontaneous explosion, and the impact of the spell reduces all your efforts to zero. Be careful." Further down there is a footnote: there are ways to prevent hair from getting in - a cap and a charm. The professor mentioned, albeit in passing, that the spell against hair can also affect potions, but more sensitive ones in terms of magic. This is why most Potions Masters use a special hair gel. It is essentially a magically inert substance. The gel is also a direct product of potion production.
This is exactly what captivates. This information is not exactly secret, but usually it is not disseminated. And Severus shared it just like that, casually. It is worthy of respect.
His way of teaching deserves special mention. It is more suitable not for schoolchildren in class, but for university students. That's why they don't really like his subject... not all children, even at 17 years old, can accept the way professors teach in universities, but here are schoolchildren...
At the end of the lesson, Snape demonstrated his skill in brewing potions, using the example of the first potion from the textbook - a potion for boils.
His cooking... This is not just a dance, it is his way of "communicating" with the world with the help of magical flows that were under his control in the cauldron. At this moment I used my magic vision to the fullest. Never before have I been so excitingly interested... Snape's magic was intertwined with liquid in the same way as Nev's magic with plants. Only if Nev unknowingly shared magic, and then received it back, then the professor... He CONTROLLED the entire process, every turn of magic, every flow... Any of his actions created both fireworks and a whirlwind of magic. It enveloped both the professor and the cauldron. The mixing of multi-colored streams gave rise to more and more new colors, and they were also different. And this process seemed to last forever. Incredible.
In the end, all the magic was divided into two parts. The first one was learned by the professor. Because of this, his aura "exploded" with power. Even in the place of the left hand, where, like some kind of parasite, the mark is located. The mana in the aura began to flow a little faster, the damage in the aura even began to heal a little, which was undoubtedly too much for an "ordinary" professor at the school, albeit one of magic...
The second part of the mana enveloped all the liquid in the cauldron and, as if condensing all the properties of the potion, merged with it. As a result, we received a finished potion for boils, without a doubt of the highest quality.
The liquid itself, in the magician's vision, looked like a phosphorus liquid that emitted light on its own.
It was this day that inspired me to study magic even more in depth...