"Oh, that's it, I understood, enough," with a light smile Hermione threw up her hands in a defensive gesture, holding a fork in one of them. "And you... You..."
"And nothing to say," I summarized, sipping pumpkin juice from a glass. "Before recovery, I did only a few things. Looked at the wall, drafted or drew, wrote unknown formulas, and relieved myself."
"Yes..." my sister nodded much more dejectedly, starting to somehow awkwardly pick at the plate with food.
Respect and esteem to students around, as they say, for despite curiosity, they did not violate personal space and did not climb with questions right now.
Having eaten lunch without much appetite, Hermione awkwardly twisted the mug with juice in her hands.
"Turned out very awkward. I mean, in the summer. I needed to meet you together with parents. But Madam Pomfrey's most optimistic forecasts said that you would be sick for another half a year minimum. So I decided it would be great to meet you around Christmas in the Hospital Wing. And not very great if you turned out psychologically and skills-wise slightly..."
"Underdeveloped?"
Glancing into my eyes and seeing no mockery or taunt there, Hermione nodded. Well, what? Maybe I don't have that much life experience, for shards are extremely incomplete in this regard, but I am also not a "pure" thirteen-year-old to get offended by trifles.
"Yes," nodded sister.
As if waking up, she looked around and noticed that students had already begun to leave the Great Hall. Yes, lunch break is the longest one, but time, however you spin it, is not rubber.
"We should run, perhaps. By the way, don't be offended at parents that they stopped visiting you while you were in the Hospital Wing. I read that it is extremely hard for Muggles to be in places of accumulation of actively casting wizards. They start psychologically looking for a reason not to return there."
To this I nodded and quickly finished the remaining juice. In principle, similar things were observed in some pieces of memories of shards too. Take at least the same elf. For about twenty years he taught at the Imperial Academy of Wizardry, which was in the capital. Around it was a peculiar exclusion zone formed by itself; ordinary people were simply uncomfortable being nearby. Pity, how pity, that I have almost no such memories, only a dozen vague images.
"You are always in such haste, turmoil, running back and forth," I noted, also getting up from the table.
"I took all additional subjects. Even good that due to Dementors the schedule was changed, making it quite linear. Under old variants of the schedule with many groups, I most likely would not have been able to attend some subjects."
We left the Great Hall and headed back to the Ancient Runes classroom. Yes, a double lesson. I decided to ask about this.
"And were there no double lessons before?"
"According to stories of upper years, usually separate hours are allocated for additional classes. Different subjects often took place at the same time, that's why it was practically impossible to attend them. Was."
"Hmm, clear-clear," I nodded while we walked along the corridors at a strolling pace.
From around the corner of another corridor intersection steered Daphne, just waving goodbye to a plump tall girl in Slytherin colors, our classmate. That girl went in another direction, and Daphne ended up practically next to us. Actually, just like three Ravenclaws who walked quite far ahead.
"Greengrass," I immediately nodded with a light smile.
"Granger... and Granger."
Hermione immediately assumed an offended and detached look, expressing her "Pfft". By the way, Daphne did the same, and her "Pfft" was not ostentatious, but at the same time much higher quality, perhaps. But besides this, she pressed the school bag hanging from her shoulder tighter to herself.
"I noticed you have an overabundance of books on runes..."
"Won't give, mine, end of story."
"You break my heart."
"Then you need to hurry to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey is a great specialist in injuries of various kinds."
"Don't understand," Hermione shook her head. "How you, Hector, can be so different?"
"Different?"
"Yes. Now understanding, now smart and serious, now haughty, eclipsing even Malfoy with this. And with guys from Hufflepuff generally simple, familiar, as if studied with them from the very beginning. Somehow even hypocritical on the side."
"You don't catch the essence, Granger," Daphne spoke instead of me. "He behaves as the situation requires. From his point of view. Pursuing his goals. Is it hypocritical? Oh, yes!"
Daphne smirked, glancing at us for a moment.
"But life is a complicated thing in general."
We approached the classroom doors, and inside the Ravenclaws who arrived a little earlier had already taken seats.
"All the world's a stage," Daphne continued the monologue, entering the classroom. "And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances..."
Daphne looked slyly at Hermione while we walked between rows of tables to our places, but Hermione only looked surprised at the brunette.
"And one man in his time plays many parts," I finished.
"Shakespeare," Hermione stated the fact.
I occupied my table to the left of the aisle, Daphne—to the right. Hermione stood looking at us.
"Didn't think you were familiar with classics," she addressed Daphne. "It seemed to me that purebloods hate everything Muggle."
Daphne looked at Hermione with light and almost imperceptible surprise.
"From the side, you seem smarter, Granger. Free advice I once received from parents. Close the book and open your eyes. We ride the train, carriages, use radio, collect firearms, cameras and films for them, architecture, even those lifts in the Ministry, plumbing at Hogwarts. Although..."
Daphne waved it off demonstratively.
"No one expects any understanding from you."
"You?" aggression wakes up in Hermione.
"Don't ask a question to which you don't want to know the answer."
Hermione turned up her nose, and looked at me already.
"If you have any questions, be sure to turn to me. I am here, after all, not the first year and know a lot. And also, Hector, I do not recommend communicating with Slytherins. This will lead to nothing good."
She turned around and went to her table. Ravenclaws sat calmly and pretended to be busy, but as soon as Hermione stepped aside, Anthony Goldstein sitting in front turned to me.
"Considering how you stood up for your sister in front of Malfoy, I expected similar here. Why?"
"Don't get into a quarrel of two women if you don't want to end up the scapegoat. They have their methods, they'll sort it out themselves."
Anthony nodded and turned away, and a moment later Professor Babbling entered the classroom. Well, let's continue the lesson.
Behind the daily bustle, I didn't notice how evening came, dinner passed, and I was already sitting in the House common room, to which I still can't get used.
"Hector," Cedric, pleased and smiling in his manner, approached me. "Here you are."
Without unnecessary prefaces, the prefect summoned a neighboring armchair and sat opposite, leaning slightly forward.
"Want to gladden you. We gathered a full team roster and are ready for training. True, until the end of the first two weeks training is forbidden; this time we, according to professors' idea, must spend on helping new arrivals in adaptation. But this concerns training precisely on the pitch and precisely in Quidditch. Flight training no one forbids."
"Clear," I nodded with a smile. "That is great. When? Tomorrow? Morning?"
"Whoa-whoa, guy, hold your horses," Cedric stopped my enthusiasm. "But yes, you are right. From morning, but the day after tomorrow. And generally, every day, for an hour. Need to get used to each other's flight manner. And only then, from September fifteenth, we will move to training two times a week already precisely in Quidditch. How's that, okay?"
"Undoubtedly," I didn't hide joy.
"That's excellent," Cedric got up and headed to the older guys.
Justin sitting on the sofa nearby decided that silence is an impermissible luxury in such a situation.
"Quidditch? In what role?"
"Chaser."
"And you didn't say."
"Not on purpose. Somehow got forgotten in this bustle."
"Understand," the guy smiled in return. "I myself couldn't get used to all this for the first time..."
Justin meaningfully circled everything around with his hand.
"...Bedlam."
"Comparing Hogwarts to a madhouse?"
"You simply weren't here in past years. Cannot say otherwise. But, maybe, this is only to my, 'Muggle' view?"
"Who knows, Justin, who knows... It is still too early for me to draw conclusions."