Realizing my unpleasant situation, specifically the absence of any understanding of where I should actually go, I pondered a fairly simple thing. Who to ask? Glancing once more at the empty corridors around, I came to the only correct conclusion if I want to get to class at all: ask in the staff room.
Without losing another moment, I headed with a quick step to the classroom already familiar to me, where the DADA practical took place. On the way, I met almost no one, but there is nothing to be surprised about here either; five minutes to the start of another lesson.
Reaching the necessary doors and knocking out of politeness, I opened them and entered the spacious office, unchanged since my last visit, except that the wardrobe with the Boggart was absent. My fault, of course, but at least they didn't bring a new one.
"Mr. Granger?" came McGonagall's voice, standing next to a table and explaining something to a lanky red-haired upperclassman in Gryffindor uniform. "Has something happened?"
"Banal ignorance of where my next class will take place."
"As far as I recall," the professor adjusted her small glasses. "You should have additional classes in Ancient Runes starting now?"
"You know?" I was slightly surprised.
"Certainly, Mr. Granger," the professor nodded. "As Deputy Headmistress, I am responsible, among other things, for creating the schedule, as well as for certifying applications of various kinds. Including for additional subjects. Mr. Weasley."
McGonagall shifted her gaze to the lanky redhead. The guy was already standing, as they say, at attention, but now he stretched even more than before, and yet this seemed decidedly impossible.
"Yes, Head of House?"
"You understood the essence of my instruction?"
"Of course."
"Excellent. Then, be so kind as to escort Mr. Granger to the Runes classroom. Your class is on the same floor, isn't it?"
"Yes, Head of House. Will do," nodded the curly red-haired Weasley, briskly turning to face me and heading for the exit.
Nodding gratefully to the professor, I left the office following Weasley, on whose robe lapel a prefect badge was visible. We walked silently, not uttering a single word. But words were not needed to understand the type of this guy; a diligent office worker. He would make an excellent assistant, true, he values only those who are higher than him in status. And surely there is a personal list of the most important persons.
We reached the necessary classroom quite quickly. The elder Weasley stopped at the open doors and turned to me.
"Classes in Ancient Runes take place here," he said in a dry strict voice, imitating McGonagall. "Go in, there is still time."
"Thank you..."
"Percy Weasley," he nodded.
"Hector Granger."
"I know."
Percy went further along the corridor, and I entered the classroom.
Only five students from different Houses, not counting me; not many young wizards in our year chose Ancient Runes as an additional subject. The classroom itself was quite ordinary, without any details by which one could understand that this is a Runes classroom. Although, there is one difference; the walls are not stone, like everywhere else, but with very decent wood paneling, favorably distinguishing the classroom among others.
"Hmm? One more? Well then..."
The voice belonged to a middle-aged black-haired woman sitting at the teacher's desk. Her robe was of a dense dark red color, and the fabric itself gave off a sensation of "heaviness"; velvet usually produces such an impression. In her hands she held a parchment, and every trifle in how she sat, held this very parchment, looked at it, all this betrayed certain displeasure and hopelessness. This witch looked at me for only a couple of moments, returning to the study of the parchment.
" come in, young man, sit down. We'll start shortly..."
Asking me twice is not needed; I quickly headed to one of the free large tables. Taking everything necessary in the form of a textbook, notebook, parchment, quills, and other stationery out of the backpack, I quickly examined those present. Three Ravenclaw robes. One of the guys is called Anthony Goldstein, I think. At the desk closest to the teacher sits Hermione, the only one from Gryffindor, and diligently reads something in a book. Amusing. It seems my agreement to communicate, along with the invitation to the House table for lunch, knocked her off the thought, and she missed the fact that I will have Runes. Just like her. Ah no, she looked back, found me with her gaze, and somehow even exhaled with relief.
To the side of me sat Daphne, to whom I hurried to nod in greeting. In the girl's gaze was read: "And here he is...". Should have sat closer. Why? I find light dislike amusing, just like equally light benevolence, and this is true for all ages. Without crossing boundaries, one can sway such sentients to amusing reactions. But the main thing is not to cross boundaries.
And I also noticed that Daphne has as many as five books on the table; a textbook, and four smaller in format, but thicker. Dictionaries? Or maybe something else valuable and interesting? If one believes rumors that only pureblood wizards, well or at most half-bloods, get into Slytherin, is it possible that the girl has more interesting sources of information on the subject? Well or at least an understanding of which books are better to take, and which to ignore?
Daphne could not help but notice my gaze on her books, frowned, looked at me, at the books, again at me, and with a terribly amusing, cute, and simultaneously proud movement simply grabbed her books, moving them closer to herself. At the same time, even a complete layman in non-verbal communication could read a simple phrase in her gaze: "Like hell!"
"So," the teacher drew attention to herself, getting up from the table. "There are a bit too many of you..."
Students looked around bewilderedly, but everyone could see only five people besides themselves. Apparently, everyone still remembers McGonagall's words that she had to lead classes even larger than the entire third-year stream.
"Excuse me, many?" Hermione asked a question, not forgetting to raise her hand.
"My subject was never popular among schoolchildren. Which they undoubtedly regretted after graduation. This allowed splitting the year into two or three groups of two or three students and conducting classes almost individually. An excellent approach, for understanding Runes is very individual. Who will say what this might be connected with?"
I had thoughts, but decided to slow down with expressing them for now; Transfiguration was enough. But the question did not remain unanswered; Anthony Goldstein, like Hermione, raised a hand.
"Yes, Mister..." the professor pointed with a sparing hand gesture toward the guy.
"Anthony Goldstein, Professor."
"Ah, yes, I am Professor Bathsheda Babbling. So, Mr. Goldstein?"
"The reason for the individuality of understanding Runes lies in the fact," the guy spoke confidently, "that primarily Runes are languages. Languages ancient, and having no literal translation."
"Precisely, Mr. Goldstein. Hence all difficulties flow."
Anthony sat down, and the professor began to slowly pace in front of the class, narrating.
"You may write down. In educational literature, there is too much superfluous, sometimes even artistic description. Let's get rid of this."
We amicably opened notebooks and prepared to write under dictation.
"Each rune is informationally self-sufficient, carries a load at the level of a word, and sometimes a phrase, has a multitude of semantic meanings, and along with this—a multitude of magical effects. Just as the meaning of a runic text can be understood only by context, so the magical effect of even one rune depends on a multitude of external factors."
The quiet scratching of quills filled the classroom, and the professor waited a couple of moments, giving time for writing.
"In my subject, we will study several runic languages, analyzing all semantic facets. Along with this, we will study on examples the principles of building magical chains using runes, analyze their variability, and learn to compose them from scratch. It is very important to understand that several runes in writing can mean one thing, by the meaning of the runes themselves a completely different phrase resulted, and the magical impact is generally different..."