Everyone except me and the first-years wandered off in different directions, splitting into groups based on their interests. Most likely, though, many would head to bed, their eyes showing fatigue and relief—native walls would protect them. For us, Cedric delivered a speech about what a wonderful house Hufflepuff is, how friendly and hardworking everyone here is, and about the ongoing conflict between Gryffindor and Slytherin at the school. Because of this conflict, we need to “keep our finger on the pulse,” and if we wish to befriend or interact with students from these houses, we should always keep in mind the possibility of arrogant aggression from Gryffindors and a cunning setup from Slytherins, since, to everyone’s sorrow, many consider our house a den of narrow-minded blockheads.

  “Hector,” the Prefect addressed me familiarly, having previously instructed several students to settle the first-years. “You were enrolled straight into the third year, weren’t you?”

  “Exactly,” I nodded seriously in response.

  “No need to be so formal,” Cedric said, keeping the smile on his face.

  I don’t know why, but it didn’t seem natural to me—or rather, not so much unnatural as forced. Yes, that fits better.

  “Let’s move aside,” he said, gesturing invitingly to a free sofa. In the armchair next to it, a terribly decent-looking guy my age, with a meticulously neat parting in his dark hair, was gazing boredly into the fireplace.

  “Justin,” Cedric said to the guy in the chair.

  “Huh? Yes?” The guy looked at us. “Cedric. Something happened?”

  “You could say that,” the Prefect replied, turning to me. “You see, Hector, it’s customary at our faculty for first-year students to go to classes and breaks with Prefects or responsible persons at first—to get acquainted with the routes, the castle, the classrooms, and all that sort of thing.”

  “I think I understand the difficulty,” I said, nodding again and mirroring Cedric’s smile.

  My gesture made him pause for a moment, but he resumed speaking almost immediately, and it seemed to me he even gave a slight nod of acknowledgment.

  “Of course, we usually assign some seniors to the first-years initially, but it’s all strictly optional, and this year, there won’t be enough seniors available for the first-years even one-to-one—not to mention a third-year student. Justin…”

  Diggory turned again to the guy, who had been listening attentively.

  “You won’t abandon a new comrade in trouble, will you? Will you help Hector get settled in?”

  “We?”

  “Yes. You, Justin, Zacharias, and Ernie.”

  “Our schedules might differ.”

  “What? Oh, right, how could I forget. Hector, what extra subjects did you take?”

  “Additional? They didn’t tell me anything about that.”

  “Hmm…” Cedric pondered, while Justin sat quietly, staring at the fire in the fireplace. “But do you have textbooks for all subjects?”

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  “Yes, for all of them, generally. Even that jaw-dropping book on Care of Magical Creatures.”

  “A jaw book?” The Prefect looked surprised, casting a questioning glance at Justin, who flinched.

  “A terrible book,” the boy winced. “At first, I was very surprised. But now, knowing that Hagrid will be the teacher, I understand why this particular book appeared on the lists.”

  For now, all I could do was shift my gaze between Cedric and Justin, playing the role of a simple yet understanding and reserved boy—though I am one. And that book is indeed amusing—big, with an eye, and it behaves like a huge living jaw. I almost immediately realized you need to stroke its spine to open it calmly and read—a very distinctive ridge on the spine.

  “I see,” Cedric smiled again. “Hagrid is truly unique. Look, Hector, you need to choose two additional subjects: Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Muggle Studies, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy.”

  “In that case,” I said, thinking for a moment, “Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes.”

  “An unexpected combination.”

  “Yeah,” Justin nodded. “We all chose Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, or Muggle Studies. Nobody cares about the rest. Hector, why Care of Magical Creatures and Runes?”

  “You can figure out the other subjects yourself; the books there are quite clear. Understanding animals is best done through contact with them, and books on Runes are too abstract. Muggle Studies… well, you understand.”

  “Yes,” Cedric agreed with a nod. “A questionable subject for a Muggle-born. I’ll talk to the other Prefects about the Runes. And one more question: How are you with magic?”

  “Practical training in subjects? Or theory?”

  “Both.”

  “I’ve learned all the theory, no practice at all. But I pick things up quickly.”

  “Hmm, let’s check,” the Prefect said with another smile. Taking a wand from the inside pocket of his robe, he pointed it at a sheet of parchment lying on the table nearby.

  The sheet quickly transformed into a feather without any visible effects.

  “Take out your wand and cast a levitation charm on the feather.”

  Pulling my wand from the holster on my forearm—which I hadn’t even noticed I’d crafted from my mother’s old, worn-out boot, its box destined for the trash—I made the correct swing, released my control over the magic, and said:

  “*Wingardium Leviosa.*”

  The crumbs of my magic rushed to the wand and emerged as a sort of trail, enveloping the feather. Yes, it lifted off and hovered happily above the table, obeying my wand’s movements. But I didn’t sense any particular structuring or anything else. The magic, in an almost unaltered form, seemed to wrap around the feather, leaving a simple channel for interaction. What’s happening? Why? Nothing’s clear, but it’s very interesting.

  “Excellent,” Cedric nodded contentedly, smiling at me. “And you haven’t tried this spell before?”

  “No, nor any other magic in the program.”

  “Impressive,” Justin remarked, eyeing the hovering feather with interest as I canceled the spell. “You’re just like Hermione—you cast spells with almost no practice. We’ll get through the material quickly then.”

  “By the way,” Cedric perked up, sitting a bit more upright with an air of importance, “are you, Hector, by any chance related to Hermione Granger?”

  “Yes, her brother. Does it matter?”

  “Not really,” Cedric shook his head, though Justin disagreed.

  “Well, she’s the best student not just in our year, but overall. Her studies are always perfect.”

  “Okay, guys,” Cedric said, standing up from the couch, and we followed suit. “I won’t keep you any longer. If I’ve checked the schedules correctly, your classes start with Potions tomorrow.”

  “Oh-oh-oh, no,” Justin groaned, prompting a kinder smile from the Prefect this time. “Come on, Hector. I’ll show you the room. And don’t worry about the magic—we’ll definitely help, and we’ll manage it ourselves.”

  We left the gradually emptying faculty common room, passing through the round doors into a corridor lined with several more doors—yes, also round. Hobbits, honestly!

  The room where I was placed with the other third-year boys followed the same light color scheme as the faculty common room, with round windows too. Four of the six deep niches housed fairly large wooden beds with yellow canopies, matching the lining of the faculty students’ robes. A thick curtain allowed you to separate yourself from the common space, creating a cozy personal corner. Each niche had room not just for a bed but also for a chest, and even a small table with a chair. The room itself was spacious, boasting a large table, chairs, a sofa, armchairs, and two of the remaining niches, which had clearly been turned into storage nooks by a student’s hand for various items that didn’t fit elsewhere in the room.

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