" Forty-nine! Fifty!
"Potter! What have you done here?!
Harry exhaled, got up from the floor, stretched with all his might, and dusted his fists. Fifty push-ups were one of the standard morning exercises he performed every day under the supervision of his master. One of the most harmless, it must be said. Magicians often forget about their physical fitness. However, this is forgivable for ordinary people — everyone ruins their body as they see fit. But for fighters, demonologists and necromancers, physical weakness is completely unforgivable, because they often have to fight some creatures from the abyss without magic, or at least be able to run away in time.
For this reason, when he found himself at Hogwarts, Harry was in no hurry to stop exercising. The only exception was when he had to go out into the common room of the faculty — his bedroom was very cramped, and he hadn't had time to expand the space yesterday. The necromancer's intuition was screaming that Hogwarts was dangerous, and Harry trusted his intuition more than anyone else (except his master, of course). And just keeping his body in shape was good, even without regard to magic and dangerous creatures. Harry had seen this for himself, as soon as he turned around at the sound of a voice.
Standing before him were almost half of his new classmates. The amulet that picked up emotions instantly heated up, switching to a mode of accumulating dark feelings, and Harry almost suffocated from the wave of envy in the boys' eyes and lust in the eyes of many girls. And he was lucky that it wasn't the other way around. However, Harry understood the situation perfectly well — he stood out favourably against the background of most of his classmates. And then there was his T-shirt, soaked from all the exercise and sticking to his body. It was a pity he hadn't been able to go for a run — the school was on curfew. Not that he cared, but he simply decided to postpone his run until the evening.
Meanwhile, the public was waiting for an answer. Harry dried his T-shirt with a wave of his wand and dispelled the smell, then decided to answer after all.
"It's morning exercises, Draco," he replied.
"But why?
"Sport prolongs life," Harry shrugged. "Especially if your wand has been knocked out of your hands. When your opponent is sure that you're no threat — and many wizards without wands are no threat — you can either run away, break his neck, or just punch him in the teeth. After all, you wake up faster after exercise..."
"You talk like a Muggle...
"He who survives laughs best. It doesn't matter if you're a Muggle, a wizard or a Squib," Harry didn't take the bait, though he didn't point out that some dead people can also laugh at the necromancer's jokes. "Is breakfast ready yet?"
"In fifteen minutes," Draco looked at his watch. "Should I wait for you? It's your first day here."
"Second," Harry corrected him. "And no, you can go. If anything, I'll ask the portrait or a ghost for directions. But thanks for trying to look out for me."
Harry headed for his room. Charms were all well and good, but he needed to take care of his personal hygiene. And he should change his clothes. Of course, he could have shown up for breakfast in his training uniform and shocked everyone with his appearance, but he didn't want to look like a Weasley, did he? However, Harry had no doubt that his little show had been quite successful; he had attracted the attention of the students. Why had he done it? It was simple. If you want to hide, stay in plain sight. If Dumbledore was really interested in him, it was better to do everything possible to prevent the old man from influencing him without attracting everyone's attention. That way, if Potter suddenly started behaving unusually or suddenly forgot about a conversation, those involved would immediately raise the alarm. Slytherins, of course, had a reputation for being loners and individualists, but not that much.
Going up to his room, Harry smiled. Yes, life teaches people nothing. In the room, right on the edge of the rune circle, lay the body of a house elf. Harry sighed, scattered the corpse of the uninvited guest with a gesture, and drew the remnants of the spirit's energy into his ring. I wonder how long it will take before the old man gets tired of losing his castle servants? There was no way to prove Harry's involvement in these disappearances. And even if he could prove it, he would have to admit to rummaging through a student's personal belongings, which was a complete no-no both from a legal standpoint and from a moral standpoint. Especially since a house-elf is an incarnated servant spirit with no official legal status in Britain. So Harry wasn't risking anything.
Harry was a little late for breakfast, however — he took a wrong turn, but quickly realised he was going the wrong way. As soon as he entered the hall, there was a moment of deathly silence, and almost everyone stared at Harry. He almost suffocated from the mixture of emotions — lust, envy, slight hatred, anger, fear, interest...
"I see you're popular," Draco commented sarcastically, looking at Harry.
"Envy me in silence," the necromancer said, putting some oatmeal on his plate and quickly making himself a few sandwiches. "Do they serve coffee in this castle?
"Only green tea and juices, unfortunately..."
"When we go to Hogsmeade, remind me to buy a bag of ground beans...
"I'm not your servant, Potter!
"I'd be glad if I were you," Harry sighed, pulling the carafe of cherry juice towards him and pouring himself a glass. "No, if you want it..."
"Are you ill?
"Prove me wrong," Harry took a sip of juice. "Anyway... Just remind me about the coffee at the weekend.
"And what do I get out of it?
"If you chip in, you can drink coffee from this supply yourself.
Malfoy thought for a moment, scratching behind his ear.
"You're a bastard, but... Fine, I'm in. How much do I owe you?
"A two-pound bag of beans is about six Galleons. That'll last you a couple of months if you're careful.
"So, three gold coins from me?
"Well, if no one else wants any, then yes," Harry nodded.
"Hey, Potter! I'm in!" Zabini, who was sitting nearby and had heard every word, immediately chimed in.
"Me too!
"And us too!
"Quiet, quiet, quiet!" Harry raised his hands. "Let's do this: by evening, ask everyone in the faculty who is older than third year. Then we'll estimate how much coffee we need, calculate everyone's share, and buy it. Well, I think you can manage to transfigure a coffee pot for yourselves.
The students buzzed with agreement, and Harry shook his head. Yeah, right... Things were really sad here — in all these years, no one had ever suggested buying something together. Now Harry wasn't so sure that the Slytherins would notice his changed behaviour. However, the noise soon died down, and Snape approached the table. After looking at his charges with a bored expression, the dean began to hand out the schedule.
"Potter, you didn't fill out the application for extra lessons?
"No, sir. The Ministry told me I would choose at school.
"And what did you choose?
"What do they offer?
" Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy, Muggle Studies, Divination, and Medicine.
"Runes and Healing," Harry replied immediately.
"An unusual combination," Snape remarked, looking at the newcomer with interest.
"Divination requires a gift that I definitely don't have. I don't need magical creature care, I know Muggles better than most wizards, and numerology can be learned on your own.
Of course, Harry was being a little disingenuous. But he couldn't admit to Snape that he knew all these subjects, except divination, at a level close to that of the teachers, and had chosen the ones he simply felt more comfortable with than the others. Well, except that he really didn't have a gift for prophecy, there was no getting around that. And without the gift of foresight, all this tea leaves, palmistry and smoke balls were just decoration for charlatans. However, Snape was satisfied with such a simple explanation, and judging by his tone, he was probably just asking for the sake of form. And so, as soon as Harry signed the form for extra classes, the dean left.
"What do we have today?" Harry glanced at his schedule.
"Not as bad as it might seem," Malfoy checked his schedule. "Transfiguration with badgers, potions with morons..."
"With whom?
"With Gryffindors," Draco clarified.
"Why 'morons'?
"They have an unspoken motto: 'stupidity and courage'. Watch them and you'll understand," Draco took a sip of tea. "So... Next is the elective subject. You have medicine, and I have numerology. I don't know who else is taking medicine, but it's taught by Madam Pomfrey. She's a good healer... And at the end of the day, Defence Against the Dark Arts, again with the Gryffindors... Well, that's not so bad.
"Could it be better?
"Mm-hmm," Malfoy nodded. "If it was the first class, I could have slept an extra hour. Bins doesn't care what's going on in his class... And what else can you expect from a ghost?
Harry almost choked on his juice.
"Sorry, did I hear that right?" he asked. "Are you kidding me? The history teacher is a ghost?"
"Yeah. But believe me, it's nothing special. Bins hung up his skates in the mid-sixties, so don't expect any interesting stories from his personal experience, like the Bloody Baron. I don't know what you can get out of him...
"Well," Harry smiled slightly, as maliciously as he could, "you can get a lot out of anyone. The main thing is to know the right approach... I think I can get him to talk..."
***
The door to the Transfiguration classroom opened exactly one minute before the start of the lesson, allowing the students who had gathered outside to enter. The Hufflepuffs hurried to take the front desks, while the Slytherins settled into the back rows — even at such an insignificant level, the animosity between the houses was noticeable. However, Harry couldn't care less about all this internal politics. He was the last to enter the classroom, everyone else had already taken their seats, so the only place left was the first desk, behind which sat a chubby teenager who looked like an aristocrat. A real one, a Muggle, close to the court (as Harry later learned, it was Justin Finch-Fletchley). It was also clear that the teenager was scared of his desk mate to death. Although, it would seem, why?
However, at that moment, Harry was much more interested in the large spotted cat, which looked like a Scottish Fold, than in the feelings of the teenagers in the room... Of course, it wasn't really a cat, but an Animagus form (it's hard not to sense the characteristic emanations of magic when you yourself can turn into a giant raven) the Transfiguration professor. Oh, those characteristic features, like spots in the shape of glasses...
"Good morning, Professor McGonagall," he decided to greet the professor. "You look wonderful, but will you be comfortable teaching in animal form?"
A deathly silence fell over the classroom, and the students looked at the student as if he were both a god of deduction and a death row inmate. The cat, however, jumped off the table, transforming back into the professor in mid-flight.
"Thank you, Potter," she said in a dry, slightly broken tone. "Take your place, and we'll begin..."
Harry shrugged, sat down next to Justin, and wondered if reviving an Animagus would allow them to transform into animals, like the vampires of the Gangrel clan. And if so, would such a beast be just as much of a zombie? And how would that affect control, since animals are easier to control than people... And if an Animagus died in animal form, could it be forced to transform back after being revived? In short, many questions, no answers, and no one to ask. McGonagall would never answer such questions...
"...it's impossible to pass O.W.L.s," continued McGonagall (it turns out that Harry had missed part of the lecture while thinking about his own problems), "without serious practice, without diligence, without perseverance. I see no reason why everyone in this class should not pass the Transfiguration exam," — you just have to work hard." "And that is why today we are going to start with the Disapparition spell. It is simpler than the Restoration Charms, which you will have to study systematically only when preparing for the O.W.L.s, but it is one of the most difficult acts of magic in the O.W.L. programme and... Mr. Potter!
"Yes, ma'am?" Harry almost swore. But he had only yawned a little!
"If you think you can skip the lecture, you're very much mistaken. I don't know who taught you or how, but you'd better not sleep in class here. Am I making myself clear?
"Crystal clear.
"Perhaps you find these lessons boring?
"The lesson hasn't really started yet, so I can't say for sure whether it's boring or not.
"Maybe you can show me?
Harry sighed. She's really stuck on him... Well, he can only put up with her attacks because he genuinely respects his mentor. But he doesn't respect this flea-ridden cat.
"Yes, ma'am. So, disappearance spells..." Harry stood up and walked over to the board so that everyone could see and hear him better. "There are four basic theories of transfiguration aimed at disappearance. The first is annihilation, better known as the 'disintegration theory', which those of you who attend ancient Runes class are probably familiar with. According to this theory, any entity can be broken down into primitive magical particles called aspects. So gold," Harry took a Galleon out of his pocket, "can be broken down by spells into aspects of metal, order, and fire." He pointed his wand at the coin. "Seorsium!
The gold immediately crumbled into several grains of white, silver, and orange in his palm.
"As you can see, I've got grains of aspects. The rest — pure matter and most of the energy — has disappeared," Harry dropped the grains onto the desk. "Many runologists and alchemists use a similar method to extract useful components from various trinkets. But this is only the first theory. The second theory is disembodiment," Harry took out another coin, this time a Knut. "Evanesco!
Knut instantly disappeared from his hands.
"This is the most common type of disappearance. We have essentially erased the physical shell of the object from this plane of reality. We have disembodied it. However, the essence of the object remains in this world. Therefore, by utilising its essence, we can still cast a restoration spell that will return the object's shell to this world. Restore!
"Mr. Potter...
"Yes, ma'am?
"I think your classmates have heard enough from you," McGonagall announced, pursing her lips. "But I happen to be the teacher here, not you... Sit down, Potter. For future reference, your knowledge of alternative methods of transfiguration does not give you the right to sleep in class...
"Yes, ma'am.
"Therefore, five points from Slytherin for sleeping in class and five points for commendable knowledge of discipline," McGonagall stood at the blackboard."Now let's continue with the lesson..."
***
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