"Hinder and very strongly. And still chills to the bone," Cedric stopped smiling, remembering clearly unpleasant sensations. "There are also quite thin and comfortable things from unicorn wool. Well or in proportion three to two from this wool and other fabrics, but they are also extremely expensive. Even among the rich far from everyone affords such a thing. Right now, perhaps, generally only Malfoy and Bulstrode can afford such a thing."
"And what price for, suppose, an amulet, will be affordable for everyone or almost everyone?"
"One-two Galleons maximum," Cedric pondered again. "For three coverage will be less, although profit will remain at the level. Can try making decorated ones or from expensive material to sell to those whom the crown doesn't allow to wear a simple amulet."
"More thoughts?"
"Everything else one way or another connected with safety, protection. As Quidditch team captain, I would like to see protection during falls on my guys, but enchanted things, except broom, are forbidden by rules. We, of course, aren't searched particularly, but if caught; won't seem little."
"And for training?"
Cedric only shook his head.
"No need to get used to the fact that you can fall off a broom completely without harm. At matches the pitch is enchanted so that only a couple of fractures threaten you. Well, if falling from reasonable height. If speed of fall is too great, charms won't help. But for that there are referees and teachers there. And remaining protection is for life in the castle. Blocking hexes and other attacks. At least the first volley. But that is also not very good."
"Mm-yeah? Although, to some extent you are right."
The elf memory shard threw up an episode of strong surprise from the period of teaching at the Academy of Magic. Even if disciplines themselves, as well as material on them, I completely don't remember, but surprise... Surprise at complete absence of security system in corridors, as well as protective amulets. There wizards, it seems, believed that one needs to learn to rely primarily on oneself, and only then on "attachments." The elf was surprised by such neglectful attitude toward life and health of the younger generation, for to elves children are almost holy creatures.
For a couple more minutes Cedric threw up various ideas for profitable crafts, and then other students began to come to the Great Hall for dinner. Classmates shared first impressions from Muggle Studies lesson, and I listened attentively to surprise of both purebloods and half-bloods unfamiliar with ordinary people, and Justin. Turns out, they tell tall tales there notably, and description of these or those things that can be met on the street of an ordinary city introduced Justin into a state of permanent stupor and humanitarian shock; too ridiculous, although to a certain extent true.
"Pipe..."
"What, Justin?" I asked again the guy staring blankly at a plate with fried fish.
"Pipe, Hector. Firearm; flame-spewing pipe."
"Is that not so?" Ernie immediately perked up, knowing nothing about Muggles.
Justin shifted gaze to him, but I asked another question.
"And what did you, Justin, forget at Muggle Studies? You didn't take it."
"Well window, nothing to do, and there at least listened... Better hadn't listened. Pipe..."
"Strange," I thoughtfully glanced at Slytherin table, and turned to ours again. "I have information that wizards are perfectly aware of firearms, and some even collect handmade specimens as works of art."
"Ah, so that's what the conversation was about?!" Susan practically jumped up from her seat, surprised by her own insight, but quickly quieted down, slightly embarrassed. "And I kept thinking, what kind of 'pipes'?"
After dinner we gathered in the common room again to do homework accumulated during the day in a calm and friendly atmosphere, and closer to curfew, in a friendly crowd headed to the top of the Astronomy Tower, not forgetting to grab atlases of the starry sky, writing materials, and telescopes.
There, at the top of the tower, on the flat roof, in the light of enchanted lanterns, Professor Sinistra, a quite young and pretty lady, inspiredly told us about the constellation Orion and calculations of influence of its visible stars on magical manipulations. From what is known to me I can say with confidence that such influence is extremely insignificant, but in most precise manipulations it must be taken into account. It seems in this world there are also disciplines where such knowledge can be useful. And when building magical houses for centuries, one needs to consider cyclicality of influence of celestial bodies.
When the lesson came to an end, House prefects came to the Astronomy Tower to escort us to common rooms, for it is already midnight, and after curfew one cannot loiter around the castle without a prefect. Getting ready to sleep, I reflected on whether to grow material for amulets by elven method, or try gnomish, mechano-magical system of processing raw material? The elf shard, it seems, quieted down slightly after the experiment, but those scraps belonging to the dwarf rubbed hands with enthusiasm, anticipating interesting and habitual activity soon, inherent to every good, albeit young, dwarf.
In the Hogwarts Headmaster's office lamps burned, flooding everything with soft, warm, and bright enough yellow light, flame chirped softly in the fireplace, on its perch suspended from a golden rim sat a large phoenix, shimmering with fiery shades, looking without much interest at thoughtful Dumbledore sitting on his chair at the table.
Fireplace flame changed to green, and a plump man in a black three-piece suit and coat immediately stepped out of it. Behind him stepped out a tall and powerful dark-skinned wizard in multicolored robe of purple shades, style of which smacked of something ethnic.
"Dumbledore," sternly and importantly nodded the plump man, taking a bowler hat off his head.
Immediately became visible that the man is not young, whitened with gray hair, although tried to return natural light brown shade to hair, but the face is not burdened with intellect, which for the umpteenth time almost caused a smirk from the Headmaster.
"Cornelius," the Headmaster stood up, greeting guests, "Mr. Shacklebolt, what business brought you to Hogwarts?"
"Put aside your beloved verbal lace, Albus," Cornelius waved it off irritatedly. "Matter of emergency importance."
"Sit down," Dumbledore's face assumed an important and serious expression, even if behind long beard it was almost invisible. "Tea? Lemon drops?"
"Albus..." Cornelius answered with reproach, sitting on the offered place.
"Okay-okay," the Headmaster smiled conciliatorily and sat at the table. "Tell me."
"One of the Dementors we placed in guard around Hogwarts died."
Dumbledore frowned.
"Precisely died?"
"Precisely, Albus!" Cornelius's voice almost broke into a scream, but he quickly pulled himself together. "You know that it is impossible to kill them. And their chief reported exactly death."
"Come on, Cornelius, you know that everything can be destroyed, if there is a desire. But to destroy a Dementor..." the Headmaster's voice was quiet, insinuating, causing slight awe and respect, and gaze through half-moon glasses only strengthened this effect. "This must be truly dark magic."
"Exactly! Dark magic! Oh..." Cornelius threw off the mask of importance from his face, with a slightly trembling hand took a handkerchief from breast pocket and wiped sweat that appeared on forehead. "Do you even know that Black was recently seen in Dufftown? That is quite close to Hogwarts."
"Think Sirius Black destroyed the Dementor?"
"And who else, Albus! I am sure he is already somewhere here, came for the boy. Must do something, Albus. Matter takes a serious turn."
"Cornelius..." Dumbledore leaned back on the armchair back. "You know, Hogwarts is one of the safest places in England. And with your help and your Dementors, it became the best place keeping health and safety of children at the highest level."
"I know perfectly well myself that Dementors have no place here," Cornelius waved it off irritatedly, but apprehension splashed in eyes. "But what do you order me to do?"
"Minister Fudge, sir," dark-skinned wizard standing next to the Minister leaned slightly over his right shoulder. "We can still use DMLE forces, or better—Auror Office."
"No," Fudge said as if cut off. "No need to distract already busy wizards on empty wanderings through the forest. For this there are Dementors. Propose to discuss some additional measures."
"Well then, Cornelius," Dumbledore waved a hand in front of him. "Propose, I am open for dialogue."