Ron-Weasly book 1. V2

I growled and lunged again. This time he hit his legs, but Draco managed to jump back, caught on the edge of the carpet and almost fell.

"Shut up!" I advanced, delivering short blows — one in the shoulder, the second slid across the ribs. "You got Harry, okay? You cling like a leech all the time!"

Draco waved me off, parrying my clumsy swing, and answered himself with a sharp left hook that grazed my cheekbone. I recoiled, but I didn't back down.

"It's going to be a magic duel next time, Weasley." Draco hissed, breathing heavily. "And then you won't get off with a few bruises."

"Yes, even now!" I made a feint, and then I hit him sharply in the stomach. Draco bent over, but immediately straightened up and answered — this time more precisely, in the nose. I felt a warm trickle of blood running down my upper lip.

"Hey, there!" Crabbe called hoarsely from the doorway. "Someone's coming!"

They both froze, breathing heavily, their faces flushed and their hair disheveled.

I wiped the blood off with my sleeve and squinted at Draco.

"It's not over yet," I said, taking rowan broth from the medicine cabinet.

Draco straightened up, straightened his robes, but there was not only anger in his eyes, but also respect for someone else's resilience. And he also reached for a rowan broth.

"Let's see, Weasley. Next time, it's wand versus wand." Crabbe and Goyle opened their shoulders, revealing a doorway.

"Come on," Goyle muttered. "Filch is already on the third floor."

Draco and I silently went our separate ways, casting brief glances at each other-not so much hostile as full of defiance. The fight was over, but the tension remained.

Part 8.2 the first magic.

In two months, the castle became my home. I felt comfortable at Hogwarts, and I made a friend here. In addition, it was very interesting here, including in the lessons, which have become much more exciting since the first-year students have mastered the basics and started studying a more complex program.

When we woke up on the morning of Halloween, we felt the delicious smell of baked pumpkin, an indispensable attribute of this holiday. And then, in a spell lesson, Professor Flitwick announced that, in his opinion, we had finished developing the brushes and vocal cords and were ready to start practicing. Ever since Professor Flitwick made Neville's toad fly around the classroom several times, I, like everyone else, have been dying to master this art.

Professor Flitwick divided all the students into pairs. Harry's partner turned out to be Seamus Finnigan, which made Harry very happy. The clumsy Neville was joining his team. But I was unlucky — I got Hermione Granger as my partner. Although Hermione didn't seem thrilled either. It was hard to tell which of us looked more annoyed. Hermione hasn't spoken to Harry or me once since the day Harry got the broom.

"Don't forget the brush movements that you and I practiced," he growled like a typical goblin Professor Flitwick "the brush rotates easily, and sharply, and with a whoosh. Remember, it's easy, and sharp, and with a whoosh. And it is very important to pronounce the magic words correctly — do not forget about the wizard Baruffio. He said "es" instead of "ef" and as a result found himself lying on the floor with a buffalo standing on his chest.

It was not easy to achieve the result. I did everything as Professor Flitwick taught, but the pen I was trying to lift into the air wouldn't come off the desk. An impatient Seamus quickly lost his temper and started poking the feather with his magic wand, which sparks flew out, as a result, he managed to set it on fire — Harry had to extinguish the feather with his pointed hat.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" I shouted, waving my arms like a windmill. But the goose feather in front of me remained motionless. What's wrong? Is it really a wand?

"You're pronouncing the spell wrong," said Hermione unhappily. "It should be pronounced like this: Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, the syllable `gar' should have a long `a'."

"If you're that smart, try it yourself," I growled back.

Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her robes, waved her wand, and cast a spell. The pen lifted off the desk and hovered over Hermione at a height of about one and a half meters.

"Oh, great!" Professor Flitwick applauded. "Everyone saw that Miss Granger had succeeded!"

This arrogant girl did it, so I'll do it.

By the end of the class, I was in a very bad mood.

"No wonder no one can stand her." I muttered as we tried to make our way through the crowd of schoolchildren that filled the corridor. "To be honest, she's a real nightmare."

Finally, we got out of the crowd. But at that moment, someone bumped into Harry from the side, apparently not noticing him. It was Hermione. She immediately darted back into the crowd.

"I think she heard what you said", he said worriedly, turning to me and rubbing his side.

"So what?" I waved it off, but I felt a little uncomfortable. "She should have noticed by now that no one wants to be friends with her."

Hermione didn't show up for the next lesson, and no one knew where she was until the evening. It wasn't until we were going down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast that Harry and I overheard Parvati Patil telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying in the women's bathroom and wouldn't calm down, asking to be left alone. I felt really uneasy. But a few moments later, when we entered the festively decorated Great Hall, I forgot all about Hermione. Food! And we'll visit this crybaby later. Moreover, I won't go to the women's bathroom, I still don't want to be known as a pervert.

Thousands of bats sat on the walls and ceiling, flapping their wings, and several thousand more flew over the tables like low-hanging black clouds. It made the candles stuck in the pumpkins flutter. Just like at the banquet on the occasion of the start of the school year, there were empty golden dishes on the tables, on which suddenly appeared a wide variety of dishes.

Harry interestedly pulled towards him a mini pumpkin that had been scraped out with a boat and filled with rice and feta with chestnuts and fragrant herbs.

I was helping myself to a pumpkin baked with honey when Professor Quirrell ran into the hall. His turban was askew, and there was fear on his face. Everyone in the room froze, watching as Quirrell ran up to Professor Dumbledore's chair and, leaning heavily on the table, groaned:

"The troll! The troll... in the dungeon... I was in a hurry to inform you..."

And Quirrell, having lost consciousness, collapsed to the floor.

There was a commotion in the hall. It took several loud purple fireworks exploding from Professor Dumbledore's wand for silence to return.

"Prefects! Dumbledore rumbled. "The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw houses are going to their dormitories. Falfpuff and Slytherin to the library. Prefects, escort them out."

Percy immediately jumped up from the table, clearly feeling at home.

The corridors of Hogwarts were buzzing with footsteps and frightened voices, and there was a tense commotion in the Great Hall: professors shouted commands, upperclassmen tried to stay straight, and toddlers huddled together, as if this would make the troll move on.

McGonagall slammed her palm down on the table, the sound cutting through the noise like a Silencio spell.

"Prefects, come to me! Quickly!"

Percy stepped forward first, shoulders straight in a military manner, eyes collected.

"Yes, Professor! What do you need?"

"You're teaching the first course. Right now. In pairs, not running, but without delay. Through the north corridor, past the portrait of Sir Brinson — he will help if someone leaves off. Don't separate the couples from the Gryffindor common room. Is that clear?

"Clearly, Professor!" Percy immediately turned to the group of freshmen huddled at the edge of the table, and his voice became a little softer, but no less firm:

"So, listen to me! You're coming with me. Hold on to the shoulder of the person in front of you, if you suddenly get scared, just hold on tight. We'll go through quickly and quietly. No heroics, no `I'll see what's in there.' Agreed?"

The kids were nodding, and someone was sniffing, but they weren't crying anymore. Percy nodded curtly at McGonagall:

"Done. I'm driving."

And Elena was already standing next to her, looking around at the second and third courses — there were more of them, they seemed a little calmer, but there was still fear in her eyes.

"The second and third are coming to me," Elena said softly, but so that everyone could hear. "Seniors, you're not just next to them right now-you're their shield. Everyone takes two: one on the left, one on the right. Hold their hands if necessary. Don't let go."

Lillian immediately stepped forward and confidently took the hands of the two sophomores:

"We're walking calmly. If someone stumbles, I'll catch them. It's not an exam, it's just a hallway. But we'll go through it together."

Frank nodded at the stairs:

"Keep up the pace. We're not running. The troll doesn't need noise, and we don't need extra falls either."

Elena walked in the middle of the column, neither in front nor behind, where everyone could be seen best.

She didn't rush it, but she didn't let it freeze either:

"Second courses — stay close to the wall. Still others are next to the upperclassmen. If someone is tired, tell them, we will take a short break, but not here, not in the middle of the corridor. There will be time to exhale in the bedroom."

One boy, a sophomore, suddenly stopped, his face turned white:

"What if he's there? In the living room?"

Elena didn't say "don't be silly." She squatted down in front of him to be on the same level, and said softly but clearly:

"If he's there, the professors will meet him. Our task now is not to fight, but to get there. And we'll get there. You're not alone. Look around: Alicia is next to you, she's not afraid of anything. And Katie, who knows all the secret passages. And I just won't let you fall. Agreed?"

The boy nodded slowly, clenching his fists as if he were clinging to these words like a wand.

"Agreed."

The column moved on, more smoothly, more quietly, as if the fear had receded a little before this simple truth: they were being led, they were being remembered.

When they finally entered the Gryffindor common room, Elena did not clap everyone on the shoulders and say, "hooray, we escaped." Instead, she just stopped by the fireplace, where the flame was already burning steadily, and said:

"Everyone is sitting down now. Who wants to — near the fire, who wants — in the chairs. Seniors, make sure everyone has blankets. And... if someone just wants to keep quiet, keep quiet. If you want to tell me how scary it was in the hallway, tell me. But not all at once. In turn."

She looked around the room, made sure that no one was standing aside, no one was hiding in a dark corner, and only then did she allow herself to slightly lower her shoulders-just for a moment.

A little later, when Percy looked into the living room — the first year was set up, the kids were sitting in a circle, and he even managed to give each of them a cookie from Filch's supplies — he found Elena by the window. She stood looking at the dark towers and seemed to be checking for a shadow somewhere.

"Three are missing," Percy said softly. "my brother Ron, Potter, and Granger. I've already sent the Patronus to the dean."

Elena smiled a little:

"And I have everything in place. Even the boy who was afraid that the troll was already in the living room. He's sitting next to Alicia right now and telling her how he once saw a hippogriff from afar."

Percy rubbed his forehead, as if he'd just realized how hard he'd been clenching his fists the whole time:

"You know, I thought the main thing was the rules. Schedules, lists, and order. And today... today, the main thing was just not to let them be alone."

"The rules are important too," Elena said calmly. "But sometimes the most correct rule is: `Hold your hand. Don't let go.' Apparently your three went out for a walk."

"Lavender says Hermione has been crying in the women's bathroom since morning."

Chapter 8.3 Saving Hermione.

"How could a troll get into the castle?" Harry asked me as we hurried up the stairs.

"Don't ask me how I know." I shrugged my shoulders. "Actually, it's strange — they say that trolls are terribly stupid. Maybe Peeves let him in, decided to make a joke before Halloween?"

Judging by the busy traffic on the stairs, the evacuation was in full swing. Only the Halfpuff students lived up to the reputation of their faculty: they crowded into one of the corridors and prevented the others from passing. And the Slytherins were led upstairs. It makes sense, though. They have a living room in the dungeons. And there are books in the library, and you can barricade yourself. Harry and I were making our way through the crowd when Harry suddenly grabbed my sleeve.

"I just remembered: Hermione!" Harry suddenly yelled.

"What about Hermione?" I didn't understand.

"She doesn't know about the troll!"

Damn, I completely forgot about her. I bit my lip. If it's my fault she dies, I won't forgive myself. I checked if the rowan broth was in my pocket.

"Okay," I said abruptly after a few seconds, which took me to summon all my courage. "But if Percy sees us..."

Crouching down, we climbed into the very middle of a group of Halfpuff students who finally moved towards the library-that is, in the opposite direction. No one paid any attention to us, and after a while we emerged from the crowd, quickly ran down an empty side aisle and rushed to the women's toilets. The goal was just around the corner. We were already turning the corner when we heard quick footsteps behind us.

"It's Percy!" I hissed, grabbing Harry and hiding with him behind a large stone griffin.

However, it wasn't Percy who ran past us, but Professor Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from sight.

"What is he doing here?" Harry whispered. "Why isn't he in the basements with the other teachers?"

"Do you think I know?"

We tiptoed into the next corridor, just where Snape had disappeared, whose retreating footsteps we could clearly hear.

"He's heading for the third floor," Harry began, but I held up my hand.

Fuck Snape, we have more important things to do. The air smelled like a mixture of dirty socks and a public toilet that hadn't been cleaned in years. Is it just me, or have we found a troll?

"Can you smell it?" Harry sniffed and wrinkled his nose.

The smell was followed by a sound-a low roar and the shuffle of giant soles. I pointed to the end of the corridor, and something huge was moving in our direction. We shrank back into the shadows, watching as IT emerged onto a moonlit stretch of corridor.