As before, Hermione and I took the inconspicuous couch, watching the students' hustle and bustle, listening faintly to the speech of the Prefect, who turned out to be Lee Jordan, who had kept it a secret until the end. After he'd told the first-years about the House, he told Katie Bell to escort the girls to the girls' wing, and he himself settled the boys.
The common room, of course, was buzzing. Ron was the loudest, telling everyone, both willing and unwilling, how he would have won the tournament if he hadn't been restrained. Or Harry, with his help, of course.
"You're too thoughtful," Hermione remarked, leaning against my shoulder, drawing diagrams with a pencil in her notebook. She turned her head toward me for a second. "Yes, I know that look. You're up to something."
"Yes, I want to break into the tournament."
"And for what? Dumbledore said there were casualties. Lots of casualties. It could be dangerous. Yes, and how are you going to circumvent restrictions we don't know the principle of? What kind of Impartial Judge? How will Dumbledore follow the selection process?"
"I read somewhere about that, but there were only a couple of lines. We should go to the library and find out all the information about the past tournaments. After that, we can think about it, but anyway, Dumbledore can certainly stand in person at the application process and keep a close watch, but you know, there's nothing else for him to do? There's going to be some magic."
"That's understandable. Why do you need this?" Hermione went back to drawing diagrams. "Eternal glory? Name at least one past champion. A thousand galleons? The amount isn't small, but it's not big either."
"Glory is indeed fleeting. However, it will be relevant in the years to come after the tournament. Look. Let's say I became champion. What does that mean? I beat the defense, one. The youngest of the other champions, two. The most worthy of Hogwarts, three. If I win, I'm also the winner, considering I should have been the weakest - four. And as a bonus, I can ignore the school curriculum for this year, which means a lot of free time, which I can spend to my advantage. Besides, I could try to get permission to the Restricted Section from the Headmaster, because I'm a champion. And for you to get admission, because 'Friend of the Champion!'"
"It's all great," Hermione nodded. "The only thing left is to bypass the defense and become a champion."
"Exactly. Exactly..."
***
The first day of school was pleasant, not sunny, but at least not rainy, although it was overcast. But the weather didn't affect my physical training, which I'd been neglecting for the past two weeks, so I decided to double up on it, starting with jogging. Walking down to the common room, I saw Hermione there in her blue tracksuit.
"Hi. Jogging?"
"Hi. Jogging."
The two of us ran around most of the castle, made our way outside, ran around the courtyard and the grounds by the lake, speeding up and slowing down. The final chord was a run up the stairs of the main tower. Back and forth, back and forth. We met a couple of upperclassmen, clearly staggering from the hangover in search of a potion.
"...weird cat..." said one.
"Yeah, you're right. Thought it was Filch's, the new one. I thought, let's kick it... I won't kick any more cats..."
"But it sent you flying pretty good... Maybe it's enchanted."
After listening to this conversation, we ran to the common room, tired and sweaty - I have greatly weakened myself with hemomancy, but I was still on the level of a trained man. Hermione took out her notebook and began to take notes, though her legs and arms were trembling, and she was about to fall over on her side.
"Are you okay? What are you writing?"
"Yeah... fine... Yes..." the girl tried to overcome her shortness of breath. "One technique I'm testing... phew... phew... nothing's clear yet..."
" Strengthening with magic?"
"Yep. Complicated. Needs more experiments... I'm going to take a shower."
Hermione looked better after her morning shower. Much better. When asked about such a quick recovery, she pulled a large bottle of a restorative potion from her bag. It's supposed to relieve fatigue and help in training by making it easier to get to the limit and not suffer as much afterward.
"Let's go to breakfast. Without plenty of food, the potion will only make it worse."
"I know."
After breakfast was Herbology class, where we had to do the not-so-pleasant business of crushing and collecting the pus of bubotuber, an unpleasant and nasty blubbery plant. Despite the unpleasant plant, the unpleasant process, and the characteristic unpleasant smell of pus that twisted the gag reflex to a maximum at once, the task was accomplished.
Arithmancy went smoothly, but Daphne Greengrass ignored my existence with incredible persistence while communicating with Hermione. Bulstrode, the second Slytherin, was politely participating in the conversation, paying more attention to some task, solving it with her usual leisurely and thoroughness. Prof. Vector cheered us up by saying that the second semester would be devoted to working on a single, collaborative project but broken down into component parts - just enough for everyone to work on individually. It will result in annual grades and assigned bonus points to the House. In principle, I don't care, but it might turn out to be something interesting.
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