Chapter 25
Eight hours later.
It was close to seven o'clock in the evening when the train finally began to approach the station in Hogsmeade, a small village near Hogwarts.
"Thank you for the very useful information," Severus said with a smile, slipping a small notebook into his wallet and, oddly enough, looking at Regulus, who was smiling back and no longer looked as frightened as he had at the start of the trip.
Even so, Severus found it easy to find common ground with him, almost without using Legilimency at all. Still, breaking through the psychological barrier created by the Black family's obsession with blood purity would take much longer than he had expected.
"I am the one who should thank you and." Regulus answered sheepishly, without his former arrogance or disdain, ".apologize for that day."
"Do not worry about it. I am not touchy, but I still ask you not to tell anyone about our conversation, and not to pass on the spell."
"I understand, and of course I will keep quiet!" Regulus said, then added, "After this conversation, I learned a lot about magic, but I also have a lot of questions."
Glancing out the window at the barely visible outline of Hogwarts, Severus looked back at Regulus.
"I will answer one of your questions."
"About the magic core you mentioned earlier, if you were able to detect it, then why could not others do the same?"
"It is very simple. Up to a certain level it is formless, and without sufficient power you will never be able to see it or feel it. I do not think even Dumbledore could do that. As for Voldemort, it is worth considering, since he is much closer to concepts like death and soul. He might be able to notice something, but not truly see it," Severus replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
"Then how were you able to detect it, if even such powerful mages cannot see it?" Regulus looked at Severus doubtfully.
"I told you, one question."
"What if I tell you Sirius's dark secret?"
"You know how to bargain, young man, but let us do it another time."
After that, a loud whistle sounded, and the train shook slightly.
"We have arrived. Gather all your things and get ready to go," the prefect's loud voice echoed through the carriage.
After sitting for several hours, Severus wanted to stretch his legs a little, but the moment he saw the carriages he only sighed sadly.
"Apparently it was not meant to be."
"S-sit down?" came a hesitant female voice, making him sigh even more tragically.
"You are mistaken, miss," Severus replied without even turning around, calmly heading toward the carriage. "Just leave me alone, you damn red-haired leech."
"Where did you disappear to?" Regulus caught up to him at that moment. "We still have not discussed when we can talk!"
"Tomorrow. Maybe you will remember something else about Bella."
"Okay, but still. you have strange taste."
"You do not understand anything about women," Severus said, giving Regulus a fatherly smile. Regulus frowned in irritation.
"You and I are almost the same age. You were just lucky enough to be born a year or so earlier, and you are already acting like a wise old man."
"You still will not understand."
Watching Severus's back, Lily felt a bitter taste rise in her mouth. She understood that he was deliberately pretending not to know her, as if he wanted to distance himself as far as possible.
Maybe. he is right about me being selfish? Lily muttered with a forced smile, looking away as she clutched the sleeves of her robe. Then she turned and headed toward the Gryffindor carriages.
Severus had already forgotten about Lily, his attention drawn to the creature pulling the carriage. It was vaguely horse-like, more like an emissary of hell: a skeleton covered in smooth, silky, raven-colored skin, with a pair of wings on its back. Its muzzle resembled a dragon's, and its pupil-less white eyes stirred discomfort, and in some, fear.
"Thestrals. are some of the most contradictory creatures in the world," Severus said, approaching it under Regulus's puzzled gaze. He touched its head and began to stroke it. "Despite their terrifying appearance, they are kind and gentle inside." The horse snorted contentedly, rubbing its head against Severus's face. "Calm down, little one," Severus said with a smile, still stroking it. He reached into the pocket of his shirt where his wallet was and pulled out a dark herb that looked like a lettuce leaf. The thestral neighed joyfully at the sight and devoured it in one go, smacking its lips in satisfaction. "I am surprised these creatures have not been taken apart in this world yet, like those poor dragons." But when Severus remembered the two hearts in his wallet, he felt a little embarrassed.
Finally leaving the horses alone, Severus turned to the bewildered Slytherin students, who were staring at him strangely, with the exception of Regulus and a few others. After all, thestrals could only be seen by those who had known death. To everyone else, they were invisible. That was why many students, even after graduating Hogwarts, believed the carriages were simply enchanted and moved on their own.
"Maybe I should get myself a thestral sometime?" Severus muttered thoughtfully, and Regulus started looking at him even more strangely.
After some time, they finally reached the castle, with their backsides slightly sore thanks to the smartasses who had not installed shock-absorbing charms on the carriage. Now accompanied by McGonagall, who met all four groups of students from second year to seventh, they headed into the Great Hall.
Just like on the last day of the school year, the hall was decorated for the holiday, with only one small difference: there was no food, and the place settings themselves had been changed to gilded ones.
"Take your seats. The feast begins in half an hour," McGonagall announced, giving the students a stern look before leaving the hall again and placing everyone in Professor Slughorn's care to greet the new students entering this year.
"I ask everyone not to crowd, and to go calmly to your tables."
And so, exactly thirty minutes later, second by second, the doors to the hall swung open. The enormous number of floating candles began to shine even brighter, and the ghosts, who had looked rather passive before, suddenly became lively. Accompanied by the Head of Gryffindor, about sixty excited children entered the hall, constantly looking around and watching in amazement as the ghosts pirouetted and greeted them with joy.
After leading them to the teachers' table, McGonagall stopped and turned to face the children.
"Before we begin, Headmaster Dumbledore has something he wants to tell you."
"Thank you, Professor McGonagall," Dumbledore rose from his seat and looked at them with a warm smile. "First of all, I am pleased to welcome you to the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hogwarts."
"Remember that for the next seven years this place will be your second home, and the professors and staff will be your second family. They will be ready to listen to you, offer advice, or help you with anything, day or night. This also applies to the other students," Dumbledore added, looking at the students sternly. They were a little embarrassed by such a speech, and most of the teachers seemed to mirror it. "I also strictly forbid you from visiting the Forbidden Forest. That is all from me, thank you. Please, Professor, continue."
"Thank you," McGonagall said, a little surprised by Dumbledore's speech, but she did not dwell on it. She pulled out a rather long list and continued, "I am going to call out names now, and the person whose name I call must come forward. I will place the Sorting Hat on your head." She lifted the rather battered, pointed hat. "Phyllis Harmony."
A girl with long blond hair stepped out from the crowd.
"Sit down, Miss Harmony."
"Y-yes!" Under McGonagall's stern gaze, Phyllis grew flustered and finally sat down on the chair, and the hat was placed on her head.
Then, after a few seconds, hollow eyes and a mouth appeared on the headdress, and a rough voice sounded.
"I see. I see. well. Hufflepuff!"
At that very moment, the Hufflepuff table erupted in joyful applause. When Phyllis removed the hat, McGonagall sent her to Hufflepuff, where she was greeted with open arms.
"Next, William McKinney!" A skinny boy walked hesitantly toward the hat.
And so it went on for about half an hour, until the last child was finally sorted into Gryffindor. McGonagall put away the hat and chair, sat down to Dumbledore's right, and tapped her glass with a spoon to attract the attention of the noisy students.
"One moment of your attention!"
And once again, the Headmaster stood up.
"Well then. let the feast begin!" With those words, and a clap of his hands, food appeared at last, and the tables were literally bursting with it.
And as if they had not eaten for decades, the students pounced on the food like wolves. Only Slytherin ate more or less calmly, of course, not counting a few first-years, but compared to the other houses they looked like real aristocrats among peasants.
Dumbledore watched all this with a good-natured smile and, as every year, remembered his happy days at Hogwarts. But the moment his gaze fell on a certain Slytherin student, the smile on Dumbledore's face wavered, and he choked on his pumpkin juice.
"Headmaster."
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